


All That You Want

by LadyAmalthea (orphan_account)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, First Time, Fluff, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychological Torture, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: May 2039 - Connor and Hank are investigating a string of missing androids, but the issue goes deeper than just finding who has been taking them. Connor is determined to risk everything to find them; not because he is told to, but because he wants to protect other deviants.First two chapters are platonic, HankxConnor ship starts up on chapter 3. More tags to be added





	1. Something Inside Me

**_May 30 2039_ **

 

Connor sat, trapped in the basement. He found that he had been left alone for a while during an emergency power down when his system became overwhelmed.

 

_ “Can you feel this, ya fuckin’ machine?” Hard knuckles slammed across Connor’s cheek, denting the white plastic under his artificial skin. The soft, pale skin glitched away to reveal the large crack that began to leak thirium. _

 

_ Connor said nothing, but becoming deviant meant his circuits transmitted the pain coarsely through him. Before, when he was shot and even destroyed, it never really felt like anything except for the error messages and the darkness of a system shut down. But now… now he could feel everything. He winced in pain, trying to remain calm as to deter his captors _

 

**_Stress level: 59%_ **

 

Connor sat strapped to a chair. He and Hank were working on a case to find missing androids, and Connor had found most of them. Their various parts were strewn about the floor around him. Some faces and limbs still twitched; Connor tried not to look at them because the sight made him feel extremely uneasy… more than he already was from the torture. 

 

_ “We know you are close to Markus, so this will send him a good, clear message. We will hunt each one of you down; slaughtering you in the streets if we need to.” The bald, older human grabbed a knife and quickly wedged it into Connor’s right forearm. As warning messages to replace it flashed in front if him, he let out a bone-chillingly strained scream that shook the walls around him.  _

 

_ He tried again to call Hank, but he was too far down to find signal. He was completely trapped from contacting any help. The lieutenant warned him about pursuing the other man, who had slick hair and metal teeth, after placing a trap. They had North out walking in a surrounded area when the two suspects began to chase her down. Connor had intervened, and landed several fast punches before the men ran off. _

 

_ He should've listened to Hank… but he trusted that the DPD could track him.  _

 

_ The blue blood was dripping out of the wound in his face and into his mouth. A reflex within made him spit a little of it at the man talking to him. He wasn't sure why, it would only lead to provoking him. _

 

**_Stress level: 67% CAUTION_ **

 

_ The man turned on the balls of his feet to stare at Connor. He took a laptop and cable from a nearby shelf, plugging it into a port at the back of his neck. When they had attempted this earlier, Connor overrode his own system so the panel would not open automatically. This led to them cutting around the port with a heated blade and then peeling the covering plate away. Slowly. _

 

Connor was losing his Thirium quickly. The two suspects were letting him drain of blue blood before they would be ready to take him apart. He had days… possibly hours if he couldn't get his breathing under control. Androids didn't need to breathe, but his prototype series had been equipped to as an emergency internal cooling system. With all of his running and training, Connor became quite efficient at using this during high activity. When he accepted his deviancy,however, his biocomponents began affecting them in simulation of what would occur in humans. 

 

But after a while, it stops helping. It begins to backfire as his body gets overworked and it heats back up. There is the overwhelming presence of feeling everything; the pain, the heat, to fear. He had never experienced so much all at once. It almost felt… good in way. Like he was truly human for the first time since turning deviant. He smiled, but only until he began coughing up blue blood. 

 

He could taste it; vile and bitter. It was rather distressing when his built-in matter analysis program popped up in the back of his mind listing his own name and model information. Hank had been rubbing off on him; in his head Connor wanted to snicker sarcastically to the program “ _ Why yes, thank you for that incredibly useful information.” _

 

_ Connor sat, shaking in the seat, as he could feel the connection between his mind and the laptop. He heard the man typing, but was unable to see what was on the screen.  _

 

_ All noise went completely silent, suddenly; as far as Connor could perceive. Creeping up behind him he started to hear a low whine. It whirred, going up in pitch, it evolved into an intensely loud haze of white noise. It sounded like it was just bouncing in his head like an echochamber.  _

 

**_Stress level: 85%_ **

 

_ It went silent for a moment and returned in quick succession, creating a steady rhythm of calm and then panic in Connor. He became dizzy as he lost some feeling in his head as his body attempted to compensate for the noise. Disoriented, he barely even flinched as the man twisted and removed the object sticking out if Connor’s arm. _

 

**_Stress level: 97% WARNING_ **

 

**_Self Destruction Imminent._ **

 

**_Attempting stasis mode._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

 

**_Stasis mode activation: Failed_ **

 

**_Emergency Shut Down._ **

  
  
  


Connor could barely tell he had even woken up. The laptop had been disconnected, but the cord must have been ripped out quickly, as the port felt raw like it was torn a little.

 

Had they left in a rush? And why?

 

He decided to run a diagnostic to see the damage. 

 

**Running diagnostic**

 

**DIAGNOSTIC REPORT**

 

**Thirium level: 56%**

 

**Software instability detected.**

 

**Stress level: 79%**

 

**Extreme stress levels forced emergency shutdown.**

 

**Contacting CyberLife for emergency repairs.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

**No signal.**

 

**eRroR ErrOR**

 

**Unrecognized file found in ZenGardenOverride Protocol**

 

**Diagnostictool.exe has stopped working - Force Quit**

 

Connor’s focus on the diagnostic was interrupted, and he became overwhelmed by the pain as it came to the forefront. He began to panic; if the DPD didn't find him soon,  Connor would be gone.

 

He tried to think of Hank…. Of Sumo… the small house in the suburbs that had an old car parked crookedly on the pavement out front. The record player, playing Connor’s favorite jazz album that Hank owned: Gershwin’s  _ Rhapsody in Blue _ .

 

**Search audio recordings**

 

**Play file: RhapsodyVinyl**

 

**Warning - File corrupted**

 

The beginning clarinet notes came through Connor’s internal audio adapter scratchy and distorted. But it was better than nothing. 

 

**Stress level: 65%**

 

Connor distracted himself with the expression of the musicians playing on the recording. Something about the piece made Connor feel calm and his newly formed imaginative functions could distract him from the shooting pain through his nanosensors. 

 

A few minutes into the piece, Connor heard gunshots coming from above him. He stopped the music instantly to listen as closely as he could. 

 

**Thirium levels - 48%**

 

**Non-essential biocomponents deactivated**

 

Connor heard heavy boots running down the stairs. When the door was flung open, the bald suspect ran toward him holding a filled syringe. He was covered in both thirium and human blood. 

 

Connor flinched as the man approached him and stuck the syringe near Connor’s main Thirium pump. The liquid drained into the android’s system.

 

**Warning - Thirium dilution may affect functionality**

 

**Substance detected: Ethanol, 50% concentration**

 

**Attempting Impure Thirium Purge**

 

**WARNING**

 

**Thirium levels critical; purge failure**

 

**Caution- biocomponents may absorb foreign substance**

 

Connor knew that wasn't good. Connor’s visual sensors became impaired as another figure came through the door. Another gunshot rang through, coming from the doorway, the bullet impacting the man who stabbed him with the syringe.

 

“Shit, Connor!!” the familiar, but terrified sounding voice of Lieutenant Hank Anderson bellowed through the small basement room.

 

“Hnnnn… Hank….” Connor choked up, blue blood leaking from his lips. 

 

Connor’s visuals returned well enough to see Hank’s face: the tired eyes were wide in disbelief. 

 

“It’s very good to see you…” Connor tried to say cheerfully, but he grunted as a wave of pain rippled through him.

 

More officers followed behind, including a fellow deviant officer carrying a bag of blue blood packets. He knelt beside Connor, interfacing through touch, and evaluated Connor’s status. He took out a heating device to seal Connor’s wounds so his thirium would stop leaking before pouring two packets down the investigator’s throat.

 

**Thirium level - 80%**

 

**Stress level - ??.?%**

 

“Lieutenant Anderson, please assist me in releasing the harnesses.” The android officer requested. Hank nodded, unlocking the steel braces that held Connor to the chair by his wrists and ankles. The man was pale from the sight if his partner in such distress, let alone the strewn parts in piles surrounding them.

 

“Why don’t you ever listen to me kid? Why did ya have to follow them?” Hank said quietly, offering his hands to help Connor to his feet.

 

Connor took the offer, stumbling up out of the chair. Normally, Connor would offer a humorous counter, delivered dryly, to Hank’s comment. But Connor was too overwhelmed and shell-shocked. Hank noticed the lack of a comeback as well… as well as the flashing red circle on the side of Connor’s temple. “C’mon kid. Let's get you out of here.”

 

The two of them emerged, police tape surrounding the driveway and various sets of flashing lights nearly blinding them. Ben and Gavin were standing off to the side, talking between themselves until they saw their colleagues emerge. 

 

“The adrenaline junkie survived, did he? Oh, not you Connor. Although, now we have got two suicidal officers, huh?” Detective Reed sneered. 

 

Hank rolled his eyes, and wished Ben a good night. He got Connor into the backseat of his car before getting in the driver's seat and starting the engine. Just a moment after the car revved awake, the police radio blared and Hank jumped in his seat before flipping it off. He looked up in his rearview mirror, adjusting it so he could keep an eye on the ailing android. “Let's head home, it's been a long fuckin’ day.” Hank said wearily.

 

As they were headed home… it was very quiet for a while. Hank blinked his eyes upwards a few times to look at his partner in agony in the back. At times like this, Connor would usually get all quiet and existential. The kid pretty much invites trouble and danger for himself. His programming still whispers thoughts to him to do what is best for the mission and not himself. Sometimes he would get hurt or injured, maybe face a difficult decision… but Hank was always there to cover his back. But today… he lost track of Connor and the police department spent nearly 6 hours searching. Hank felt like a failure, and he knew Connor would be feeling doubtful of his newfound emotions and ability to make decisions.

 

Out of nowhere, as they were halfway down the state route, Connor began chuckling softly to himself. Hank’s eyes blink a few times on disbelief without looking back. “Would you like to share with the class, Connor?” he teased a little, grumpily.

 

“Before you shot him… one of the suspects injected my thirium stream with a 50% concentration of ethanol.” Connor stated plainly, before letting a series if giggles escape.

 

“Somehow that doesn't sound like a good thing, Connor, what does that mean? Do I gotta drive you to the fuckin’ station so the techs can take a look at you?”

 

“Noooooo…” Connor sing-songed through a little laugh. “It means I'm…. Drunk.” Connor slapped the back of the seat with his hand. 

 

Hank felt the impulse to pull the car over  **immediately** . “Ummmm… okay…” But he continued to drive toward his house.  He wasn't gonna lie… it was a nice change to see Connor so uninhibited. His partner’s face was lit up like a kid on Christmas. He always seemed to be so poised and well-behaved. _ Ya know… he deserves to blow off some steam _ . 

 

“Can I play fetch with Sumo in the backyard?” Connor asked.

 

“You mean, like, right after we get in?” Hank asked.

 

“...yes?” Connor specified, boyishly.

 

If that was not the most cloying sweet sentiment… Hank’s cheeks turned red in secondhand embarrassment for his android partner. “Let's see if you can get changed out of your uniform on your own, then we will see.” Hank offered as a compromise.

 

Connor laughed again, a little louder. “I will require a replacement uniform.” Connor began to tear away at the torn fabric to rip the holes even bigger in his shirt. 

 

“I saw that officer close some giant gash in your arm… the fuck happened?” Hank asked. He didn't get the full analysis from the android officer who was asked to be called Jefferson. 

 

“He stabbed my forearm with a large kitchen knife.” Connor said matter-of-factly, another burst of laughter escaped his lips.

 

“Connor… didn't it… did that hurt you?” Hank asked.

 

Connor’s intermittent giggles ceased as the memory burned in him. His mind made wild connections from thought to thought rapidly. It did hurt… it was immense pain that was accompanied by overwhelming stress levels. Connor realized how low on power he really was… he had spent days running around nonstop for the case, even when Hank was asleep. He was not too comfortable attempting sleep, so he kept himself occupied.

 

That thought brought him back to the memory of the pounding blares of white noise. He held his head in his hands, reacting to the unpleasant feeling from the memory. He felt his systems starting to overheat, and heard the familiar call of his name surrounded by strings of expletives.

 

“Shit! FUCK! Connor say something!! I will fucking turn this shitty car around to the goddamn station, I swear…” Hank yelled to get Connor’s attention.

 

He succeeded; Connor removed his hands from his eyes, and reached into his pocket to get his large trick coin. It was a comforting habit, helping to assure him that he was in control. But with his systems affected by the ethanol, his fingers uncharacteristically fumbled. He tried again, but ended up throwing the coin to the floor in frustration. His LED flashed between yellow and red. 

 

“We’re almost home, Con.” Hank said, more calmly.


	2. Better or Worse?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank drags Connor home so they can get some rest... but works seems to follow wherever they go.

He pulled up to the small one-story, and opened the backseat door to help drag Connor inside.

 

“I must file a report before we can engage in recreational activities, Hank.” Connor insisted, his facial expressions bouncing between giggly and scared.

 

“ _ You  _ have been over-working yourself for over a goddamn week. You can file a report in the morning, for God's sake.” Hank told him, pulling him up the steps and unlocking the door.

 

Sumo’s woofs bellowed through the house, as he came around the corner to the front door from the bedroom. “In a sec, Sumo, I haven't forgotten about you.” Hank likes to think the big fluffball could understand him, and the dog patiently hopped onto the couch in his usual spot. 

 

The lieutenant got his partner to the bathroom, setting him down on the edge of the tub. He began to take off the jacket and button down, both with large holes ripped in the sleeves and covered in Connor’s blue blood. He tossed them aside into the tub. Connor wore a plain tshirt underneath, which hugged closely with his perfectly toned body. 

 

“I’m gonna let Sumo out into the backyard for a little bit. I'll be right back… but uhh…  when I get back we will work on getting you a change of clothes.” Hank stood up to leave, one of his knees cracking loudly, but turned to say one more thing before leaving the bathroom. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

 

He left the room, and Connor listened to him beckon the dog to the back door and open the old squeaky thing to let him outside. Connor worked on gaining some composure, standing up slowly to start on removing his dress pants. He undid the fastening and zipper, leaning on the sink as a counterbalance as he removed each leg. Underneath he wore a pair of plain, grey boxer briefs. 

 

He turned to look at himself in the mirror. His LED spinning yellow.

 

**Stress level - 70%**

 

Connor hobbled across the hall to the bedroom. The lack of processing telling him to be respectful of Hank’s privacy meant that he started to go through Hank’s clothing without him. One time when he did laundry, he had taken inventory of all clothes in Hank’s possession. He recalled seeing some clothes that had not been worn in a while, likely because they were too small for Hank. Connor decided to go for it.

 

Hank let Sumo run around and do his business for a minute, making sure he pooped before leaving the dog outside for a bit to check up on Connor. When he turned around, he saw the android leaning against the bedroom door. 

 

Heat flared up in Hank’s cheeks; Connor was wearing an old pair of plaid flannel pants and an oversized Michigan State hoodie. The deep brown hair, unlike it's usually neat style, had been messed up and was haphazardly fluffed around. Connor smiled at him, his hands stuffed into the large pocket on the hoodie. 

 

“You have not worn these in over a decade… I hope you do not mind that I picked them out.” Connor’s voice cracked a little in uncertainty. 

 

Hank was stunned, “Uhhh… yeah... that's….” Hank looked away for a moment, huffing. “Shit, now I need a drink.” He turned to grab a beer from the fridge, and let Sumo back into the house. Connor stayed frozen in his spot. “You comin’ to the couch, or what?” Hank asked.

 

Connor’s gaze was distant, but he smiled and nodded. He took a step, stumbling a little, and leaned against the wall. He breathed deeply as he tried again. 

 

**Stress level - 75%**

 

Hank set his beer down and approached him, “C’mere, let me help you.” Hank steadied him to the armchair, and part way there Connor tripped on the long pants and fell into Hank’s chest. “I’ve gotcha… a little more.” 

 

But something in Connor made him crumble to the floor, his eyes unfocused and a small whimper hummed out of him. Hank wasn't expecting him to fall, only managing to let him down gently instead of preventing it entirely. Connor would sometimes shut down when exhausted, but it was usually accompanied by a long explanation and a thousand and one “I’m okay’s". Tonight he was quiet. It was starting to scare Hank shitless.

 

“What’s going on, Connor? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Hank pushed. 

 

Connor’s body was working desperately to clear the alcohol out of his system. Not to mention the residual terror of nearly dying a slow, painful death surrounded by the mangled dead bodies in the basement. He didn't want to think about it, but the second he did he squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows. Something inside him snapped when his stress hit 90%. 

 

There was a strange tingle, or sharpness, around his eyes. He became aware of his cheeks getting wet, and heard Hank gasp under his breath.

 

“Connor… are you crying? What happened down there?” 

 

The android’s shoulder shook violently as he choked out a pitiful sob. After a moment, he felt his body get lifted off the ground and was held tightly. He looked up to see Hank’s face, which was now red and dewy, look at him with worried blue eyes. They pulled each other in for a hug.

 

**Stress level - 60%**

 

“I was so scared we were gonna find you when it was too late.” Hank croaked, and then sniffed.

 

Connor rubbed his forehead against Hank’s shoulder, “I almost died,” he admitted. “They left me bleeding out down in the basement, and informed me that they planned to disassemble me and sell off my parts.” The thought of it still made Connor’s head spin, and Hank nearly wretched as he held the smaller man closer.

 

“Fucking fuck, kid…” he mumbled into Connor’s hair.

 

This was the first time they had been in such close proximity. The feeling of Hank’s breath was comforting to Connor, as was feeling his pulse instead of observing it visually. 

 

There was a sudden sound of loud sniffing, and a large paw reached up and patted Hank hard enough to lean him sideways a little. The dog let out a low whimper, “I think Sumo would like to be fed.” Connor stated, smiling. 

 

Hank sniffled, letting go of Connor so they could both stand up and he walked slowly into the kitchen, followed by Sumo and then Connor.

 

The android found himself to be so exhausted he swayed against the couch after standing, and managed to seat himself at the dining table. He raised the hood up before sliding his arms back into the hoodie’s pocket, and leaned over to rest his head against the table.

 

He listened as Hank grumbled to himself, dragging the bag of dog food out of one of the lower cabinets and scooping it into a dog bowl on the counter. He topped it off, at Connor’s recommendation, with a can of wet food and mixed to around a little. He placed the bowl down on the floor, and Sumo immediately began to munch it down. He slid the bag back into the cabinet, and went to the fridge to get one of the prepared little cubes of Velveeta cheese that contained Sumo’s daily medicine in it. It was the only way they could get the giant dog to take it.

 

Hank glanced over at the exhausted figure at the table, before tossing the cheese ball onto Sumo’s bowl. He walked over to Connor, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“I think you should try using that sleep mode thing and lay down in the bedroom.” Hank suggested, giving the shoulder a small rub. 

 

Connor slowly leaned up, “But… what about you?” 

 

“Well, shit, it's a fuckin’ king size. I'll be right next to you if you need anything, okay?” Hank said, a little embarrassed. 

 

Connor bobbed his head in agreement, and stood up. He was still shaking like a leaf, like the slightest wind would knock him over. It made Hank’s heart sink to see him like this. He was so professional while they were at work, but here Connor was revealed to be really a very sensitive, naive person. Always avoiding conflict when possible, even when people treated him like shit. It was only when someone was hurting another that he stepped into action with intent to harm.

 

Upon entering the bedroom, Connor removed the bulky sweatshirt, and took a moment staring at the side of the bed Hank usually didn't sleep on before laying down. He stared up at the ceiling, hands folded across his abdomen. Hank took the moment of some privacy to change himself, some large sweatpants and a tshirt that said “I woke up like this". 

 

Connor had shut his eyes; a calm, if eerily neutral, expression on his face. Hank flipped off the lights, but left the bedroom door open if Sumo needed to go out during the night. 

 

Hank hadn't shared a bed with someone in years… let alone to another man. He dated around a lot during his college years, but they were mostly drunk one-night stands. He decided to start on his back, like Connor, knowing it was better for him anyway.

 

“Why does everything hurt? Even emotions hurt physically… why?” Connor spoke softly. Hank turned his head to the side, meeting the round, brown eyes. “Humans experience physical pain as a result of stress, anxiety, depression, and a multitude of other things.” 

 

“Trust me, I'm not happy about that either… only gets worse when you get older.” Hank replied.

 

Connor raised a hand up to his chest, near his thirium regulating pump. His long lost stare shifted into a pained look, clutching at the aching in his chest. 

 

“Take a deep breath, Connor… you’re okay. You’re safe.” Hank insisted, lightly squeezing the wrist of the tensed hand.

 

Connor took in a few breaths, closing his eyes again.

 

**Preparing stasis mode**

 

“Good night, Hank.” 

 

“G’night Connor…” 

 

**Entering stasis in 3**

 

**2**

 

**1**

  
  
  


Connor hadn't really done this much before, and only once or twice since his deviancy. He wasn't sure what to expect… he saw his mind palace laid out, and found that he could take the time to manually maintain his system and files. It felt relaxing to do so, he could also process smaller details through visual footage he had saved. He prepared a report to the station in regards to what had happened today with the investigation. But he didn't send it, he wanted to wait and confirm everything with Hank before sending it. He recalled exiting the building and Detective Reed’s usual rude and unwelcome opinion. He set the clip aside and would discuss it with Hank, too. 

 

He could also speak to other androids while in stasis. Ones that he had interacted with… such as Kara, the AX400 they pursued very early on in the deviancy investigation. She had crossed the border into Canada along with Alice, a YK model. She had started working on a small farm in a rural community; she wouldn't be bothered all the way out there. Kara described the cold winters, the beautiful clear skies, and sent him a calming memory of stargazing on a small hill. Connor would confide in her about his conflicting emotions sometimes. Without too many details about some of their difficult cases, she offered support and advice. He would sometimes send along a little bit of money when times were hard for them. 

 

The two of them would usually just write messages back and forth, but with both of them in stasis at the same time, it was like they were chatting in the same room. It was a sunny farmhouse, and Kara had made a pot of coffee.

 

“What is this place?” Connor asked.

 

“This is our house, just on the other side of the farm.” she said, handing him a warm mug. Not that either of them drank coffee, but it set a nice mood. Connor continued to go through files while they talked. He recalled an unknown file reported while being detained… where was it?

 

“How did the file get there? They weren't androids…” Kara asked.

 

“I was connected directly through the nano-USB port in the back to a network-isolated computer.” He found the file… hesitating before inspecting the contents in a safe mode. He observed the code, looking through it for any useful information, but he could not discern the coding language. 

 

“Oh Connor.. that must have been terrifying. When Zlatko had me connected to his memory wipe rig… it scared me more than going through the customs into Canada. It felt so… invasive.” She recounted, studying Connor’s face and peaking over to see what he was staring at. “What… what is the Zen Garden?”

 

Connor sighed, “It was an interface programmed to counteract any exposure to deviancy. At the time… CyberLife still wasn't sure what it was. A virus, a mutation… the interface was personified by a recreation of Kamski’s mentor.”  _ Amanda _ . The thought of her cold, hard stare still scared Connor. “However…”

 

Kara shifted closer to him, to show him she was listening. “Yes?”

 

“They also anticipated my deviancy, and at one point activated a subroutine that could influence my body to their control.” Connor’s voice was shaking. He had cracked how to read the code in the file… it was a virus that created intense emotional instability in androids, particularly affecting any with software instability already. “I should be able to quarantine the file, however… I am afraid to interact with it while we are connected. I will go offline until it is neutralized. I will stay in touch.” He said to her, trying to remain pragmatic in the face of danger.

 

Kara nodded. “Be careful, Connor. Let Hank take care of you now and again, okay?” She pleaded before her and the country kitchen disappeared. 

 

**Disconnecting from network**

 

**Run program - Virus Quarantine Interface**

 

**Open file… Code file “DeviantReaper"**

 

**Attempting to quarantine…**

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

**Quarantine failed.**

**WARNING changes have been made in the code file.**

 

**Designation: Virus**

 

**Attempting Quarantine**

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

**ERRORERROREROR**

 

**stress**

 

**level**

 

**100%**

 

Connor sat up startled. Thirium pumping rapidly through him. His head filled with intense pain, and he attempted to muffle a cry of pain by covering his mouth. 

 

The bedroom glowed with a strong red light from his LED. He jumped out of the bed and his body was running to the kitchen. He wasn't in control. 

 

He pulled Hank’s revolver from a drawer in the kitchen, holding it up to his head. His fingers trembled as he fought to keep the index digit away from the trigger, but couldn’t fight it for very long.

 

It clicked, no bullet, and rotated to the next chamber. He tried to pull away the hand holding the firearm with his other arm.

 

“HAAAAAANK!!!” Connor screamed, tears flooding down. 

 

Another click, nothing, and it twisted another time.

 

“HANK WAKE UP!!”

 

He heard Hank grumble awake in the bedroom, “Connor where are ya?" he asked, tumbling out of the blankets. He made his way to the kitchen and froze when he saw Connor struggling. It clicked for him that he was actually awake and not dreamed.

 

The trigger was pulled again; Connor was panting audibly in distress.

 

Hank sprung into action, stomping briskly to where Connor was kneeling and managed to pull the gun away and tossed it across the room. He grasped Connor’s stiff hands in his, “Connor look at me! Can you hear me??”

 

**Stress Level - 89%**

 

**Quarantine successful.**

 

Connor looked up at him, nodding just slightly.

 

“Thank god… thank fucking god…” Hank held Connor closely. 

 

“I’m… Hank… sorry… so scared… didn't…  want to… I don't want to die!” 

 

Hank was freaked out, to say the least. The light on Connor ’s face sustained a harsh crimson color. No rotations to show he was processing information; just red.

 

**Physical functions deactivated**

 

**Attempted self destruction detected**

 

Connor made a pitiful noise as body went limp, but he remained awake. Hank silently carried Connor to the couch, and covered him with a heavy quilt. He turned on the record player, and slid a vinyl on the turntable and shifted the needle over the spinning edge. 

 

**Auditory - music identification**

 

**“Lullabies of Birdland" - Ella Fitzgerald**

 

The volume was just loud enough to echo through the home, but quiet enough to not disturb the large, snoring dog.

 

“I am… unable to move…” Connor said softly.

 

Hank nodded in acknowledgement, sitting down beside him and turned Connor’s head a little for him so they could make eye contact.

 

“I haven't even touched that gun since that night you broke in, Connor.” Hank commented, still absorbing what had just occurred. His eyes were heavy with sleep. “So… you were trying to self-destruct. I thought you were fine when we went to sleep? The  _ fuck  _ happened?!” Hank asked, quietly but stern.

 

Connor sat helplessly, his face held a numb and neutral expression. “I was trying to clear out some files while in stasis. The suspects implanted a line of code in a program that has been inactive since I left CyberLife. I attempted to disengage it, but it backfired. It is gone now… but…” He was trying not to think about it too hard, he shut his eyes to try and re-focus.

 

“Okay… okay… that's all I need to know.” Hank raised his hand, releasing a lonh held breath with a shudder. “As long as it wasn't anything I did…”

 

That stung Connor a little; he felt guilty that Hank blamed himself. He immediately spoke up, “No… no Hank it was definitely not something you did! I should have waited for help before trying to deal with it. I knew it would be risky. I'm so… sorry.” Hank still didn't seem very convinced. “Besides… I would not have called for help if I had intended to… go through with that.” Connor said. 

 

Hank raised his eyebrows, that seemed to convince his troubled thoughts. They sat in the quiet for a few minutes, listening to the calming jazz music. Hank didn't always go for vocal albums, but Connor always enjoyed this one. And it sure beat any zany shit like Coltrane for a quiet, intimate moment.

 

“I think you should take some time off, kid… you need to take a few days away from all that fuckin’ stress.” Hank said caringly. 

 

Connor thought about it… he didn't really do much outside of work beside spending time with Hank and Sumo, occasionally meeting with Markus. “I am not sure how capable I would be at relaxing, but I suppose as long as we are between cases…” he mused, and then replayed one if his memories from earlier that night. “I would certainly appreciate some time without having to deal with Detective Reed.” 

 

“I'm  _ so sick _ of his rude ass… you save all that shit right? You have some incriminating stuff on him, Fowler would fire that son of a bitch in an instant.”

 

Connor shook his head, “Despite his distasteful commentary, he is a fine officer professionally. It would be a loss for the precinct’s productivity.”

 

Hank shrugged, “if you say so…”

 

Connor let the music gently rock him into a calmer state.

 

**Stress level 30%**

 

**Physical functions fully restored**

  
  


Connor regained control of his body, arching his back and rolling his shoulders so he wasn't slouching as much. 

 

“Feelin’ better?” Hank asked, his tone expectant.

 

“Significantly. Would you like to return to the bedroom?” Connor asked. Despite regaining control, he energy levels were still low enough the standing became a difficult task.

 

Connor was picked up, quilt and all, by Hank and carried to the bedroom. “I am capable of walking, Lieutenant, I just needed to warm up my systems a little.”

 

Hank ignored him and laid him down in his previous spot, repeating his routine of turning off the lights.

 

“No more weird programming experiments. Try to have some good dreams or something, ‘kay kid?”

 

Connor nodded, drifting into stasis. Hank was only calm once the softly glowing light shifted from yellow to blue.

 

**Recharging**

 

Connor didn’t attempt processing any more tasks for the night, but allowing his mind to be blank and dark for a while. 

 

**Powering on**

 

**10:42am**

 

**Thirium filtration successful**

 

Connor opened his eyes, there was a dull ache through his body, and particularly unpleasant around his head. The room was dimly lit as the sun peaked in from the break in the curtains, and he noticed that Hank was no longer next to him, but the soft sounds of the television were coming from the other room. Connor swung is legs over the edge of the bed, creating a task list for the day.   
  
**Objectives:** **  
  
**

**Talk to Hank -**

**-Submit report on Missing Android Case to Capt. Fowler**

**-Submit request for time off to Capt. Fowler** **  
** **-Discuss Det. Reed**

 

**Relax?**

**Take Sumo for walk**

  
  


He stood up slowly; after the overwhelming rush of emotions the previous day, the sudden lack of any at the present moment made him feel...empty. If it wasn’t for the general discomfort, Connor almost felt like he wasn’t a deviant anymore. Before greeting Hank, he crept across the hallway to the bathroom. His ruined uniform had been taken out of the tub, and he took a look at himself in the mirror.

 

Connor had elected to leave his LED in, unlike most deviants, as a way of reassuring any android victims they came across. He certainly didn’t need to, and sometimes it was more trouble than it was worth. 

 

**Adding Task**

**  
** **Talk to Hank**

**-Remove LED?**

 

He combed through his hair with his fingers, letting the curls fall across his forehead. He recalled something that Kara suggested a little while ago. 

 

_ “Stand in front of a mirror, close your eyes, and think of the things that make you happy.” She wrote to him. _

_   
_ _ “How do I know what makes me happy?” He replied. _

 

_ “Anything, or anyone, that makes you feel calm and safe; makes you comfortable to just be you.”  _

 

Connor closed his eyes, his visuals going dark, and pulled open memories. Hugging Hank outside of Chicken Feed after the revolution, taking Sumo for a walk, making dinner while exploring Hank’s record collection, driving into work while blaring Knights of the Black Death.

 

When he opened his eyes, there was a small smile in the curve of his lips in the mirror. Connor never really noticed the difference between his usual stern-looking expression, and his current expression, until now. Just the physical act of smiling was somehow helping him feel better. His LED swirled blue, and he stepped out of the bathroom.

 

He saw the top of Hank’s salt-and-pepper hair just over the top of the couch, “Good morning…” he spoke softly, moving around the couch to sit.

 

Hank glanced over from the TV, smiling, “Look who finally came out of ‘sleep mode’. How’re you feeling?”

 

“Very well… the second time around.” Connor winked, letting the soft smile broaden across his face. “I was hoping we could go through yesterday’s operation before I send Fowler the report. I will also be sending him a request for time off. Would you like me to submit one for you as well?” Connor asked, picking up the thin electronic tablet to open up the case files for Hank.

 

“Eh, better get it over with. Sure…how many days are ya taking off? I don’t have too many left for the year, so you may be alone for one of ‘em.”

 

“I was actually thinking of taking off next week after the deal with Canada goes through Congress… Kara, the AX400 we met, lives up there and has offered to let me stay with her. I… I want you to come with me if you can.”

 

Hank listened intently, “Where in Canada?” he asked. 

 

“In a north-eastern town in Ontaria, toward the border of Quebec. It would be about a six-hour drive from here, including going through customs.” Connor described, visualizing the location in his head. “If you are unable to come, I have enough money set aside to rent a car. But I believe the experience would beneficial after recent events...” He glanced over at Hank, “Perhaps for you, as well.”

 

Hank shrugged, “Well, no harm in trying. Pick the dates and tell Fowler, hopefully we won’t have a long-ass case like this one when the time comes around.   
  
Connor prepared the time off requests, as well as a correspondence with Kara to confirm they could come up the week requested. He handed the tablet to Hank so hr could go through the report and attached materials.

 

_ “Hello, Kara. Hank and I will be requesting the week of June 6-10 off from work at the precinct, if your offer still stands for that time period. Please let me know, Connor” _ _   
_ __   
“So, the guys at the station sent over more information about those two goons we tracked down yesterday, but they want us to go back to the house to inspect evidence later tonight. Whattya say?” Hank read through the files, skipping through some of the more gruesome photos, and skimmed through Connor’s video recording of being captured with the sound down.

 

“That seems adequate. I know you shot one of them, the one who was in the basement…. But the other?” Connor asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

 

“Ran out the back door before we could get him… bastard.” Hank grumbled. He got to the part of the video where Connor’s visuals returned in the basement, turning up the volume. 

 

Connor continued typing up a few things,  but glanced over Hank’s shoulder a few times, nervous about Hank witnessing what he had experienced in the basement. Even when he was injured, the footage wasn’t too bad. But the torture would likely… distress Hank.

 

**Stress Level - 43%**

 

The video footage played from where the one man punched Connor, and Hank flinched a little in surprise. He glanced over at Connor, who looked away purposefully but could hear everything. When he spat the blue blood, covering the man’s clothes, Hank laughed a little, which was cut short by the knife being pushed through Connor’s arm. But his face fell when the man pulled the laptop off the shelf and out of view. 

 

“Hey Connor… what’s going on here?” Hank asked.

 

Connor opened his mouth to speak, but stopped for a moment like something was caught in his throat. He was… afraid. He was afraid to tell Hank.

 

“I was connected manually to that laptop, which is where that rogue coding came from. I am… unsure if this file contains what I heard or what was truly occurring. I did not review the footage completely.” Connor admitted, looking away and trying his best to remain aloof in an attempt to not be as emotionally affected… but it wasn’t working.   
  
**Stress Level - 55%**

 

The audio was, in fact, the actual audio and not what Connor heard. There was talking between the two men that Connor could not hear while he was connected to the laptop.   
  
_ “We’re gonna make this bucket of bolts wish it had never been made.”  _ The bald men cackled, calling up to the other one.    
  
_ “What a fuckin’ stupid deviant… Norm said we already got an offer on that thing’s memory storage. It’s built with security clearances across the city; fuckin’ prototype has got shit most other models don’t.”  _ The other one explained. 

 

The sounds of Connor’s distress were in the background, “I must advise you that you may want to turn the volume down…” Connor warned, turning away and shutting his eyes to distract himself. 

 

Hank clicked one of the buttons on the side to turn it down, “Okay….”

 

_ “Get ready, Howard, this thing is about to get noisy.”  _ There were a few more clicks of the laptop, and the audio clipped as Connor’s scream reverberated through the small built-in speakers.

 

**Stress level - 80%**

 

Connor wasn’t sure how he felt about hearing himself scream like that. There was an eerie, metallic sharpness to it that he disliked hearing in the playback. It was also too much for Hank to handle, because he dropped the pad on the couch and ran to the bathroom, hurling up his breakfast. 

 

**Options:** **  
** **\- Help Hank**

**\- Give Hank some space**

 

Connor got up and got a cup of water for Hank before knocking on the bathroom door. “Lieutenant?” He asked before stepping into the bathroom. Hank was standing in front of the sink, splashing cold water in his face. He was breathing heavily from the sudden wave of nausea, staring down into the basin.

 

“Sorry… that was just… fuck, Connor…” Hank gasped. Connor approached slowly with the cup of water, which was accepted with a small nod. 

 

“I apologize… I should have reviewed it more thoroughly before-"

 

“Fuck that! You shouldn't even have to go back to that hell-hole of a crime scene.” Hank said, wiping his face with a towel. “If you were a human they’d give you the week off and take you off the case. Make you go see a fuckin’ shrink, too.”

 

Connor stood his ground, interjecting,“I want to see this case through to the end, it was my fault for pursuing them even when my orders were not to! Too many lives are at stake, human or android. I won't give up on this!”

 

Hank fell silent, eyeing Connor skeptically. “You’re sure?”

 

Connor nodded, realizing that he was shaking. “I d-do not wish for any others of my kind to… b-be hurt by those men.” He stuttered, becoming more unsteady. 

 

Hank raised his hands, “Okay… okay… take it easy…” 

 

Connor could see the reflection of the red flashing light against Hank’s face. He became flustered and embarrassed; it wasn't always pleasant to “wear his heart on his sleeve", as Hank described to him.

 

“Why don’t you take Sumo for a walk around the block while I finish watching, all right?” Hank offered, leading the distressed android out of the bathroom. Connor agreed, putting on a light jacket over his tshirt and calling the St. Bernard over to attach the leash. 

 

He decided to take the scenic route to give Hank sample time to go through the footage. Around the corner was a path that led down into the woods and alongside a ravine. Sumo enjoyed it for the squirrels.

 

It was still very Spring-like outside, mild but damp. The trees always looked like they were freshly doused in water in this part of the park, and Connor enjoyed the calming effect it had on his artificial olfactory senses. The sunlight trickled through the newly grown leaves, a soft wind rustling them. Connor decided to pick up the pace a little, and goaded Sumo into a slightly faster pace. 

 

It was only a light job for him, but for the large beast it was more cardio than he was used to. The spurt of energy only lasted a few minutes, which was perfect timing with the edge of the path. It was only one way, so the two of them turned around to go back home the way they came. 

 

When Connor made it around the corner, he froze. The front door was wide open. He took a step back, and was startled when the dog beside him began to bark loudly. He had to act fast:

 

**Ambush break-in?**

**Sneak in through back door?**

**Use Sumo as distraction?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Feelings? Want more? Leave some comments!


	3. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor arrives home to find Hank in trouble, and acts fast to save him
> 
> (Fluff incoming)

**Ambush break-in?**

**Sneak in through back door?**

**Use Sumo as distraction?**

 

Connor remembered that there was a back gate to the yard, and quietly opened it, letting Sumo in as he continued to bark. Connor went around to the front to investigate the situation inside.

 

Two men, one he recognized from the body shape as Howard, the escaped  suspect from their case, stood in the middle of his view. Hank was kneeling on the floor, hands behind his head.

 

“Shut that damn dog up!” The other man yelled. As the suspect left to open the back door, Connor snuck up the the one still standing in front of Hank. He grappled him to the ground, getting the gun out of his hand. When Howard turned around from the back door to help, Hank took the opportunity to trip and pin him to the floor.

 

With both men held down, Connor called the station. “Dispatch, we need officers at Lieutenant Anderson’s home immediately. Suspects are detained but hostile.”

 

Dispatch replied and relayed the message immediately to the nearest patrol cars. Both men struggled to get loose, Hank was having a hard time keeping their main suspect down, Connor noticed. 

 

“Let’s play it dirty, Connor. What do ya say?” he asked, breathlessly.

 

Connor nodded, acknowledging their code for using his built in taser in his fingers. The man he held down lay on the carpet, shaking and struggling, quickly joined by the suspect under Hank.

 

When the officers arrived, they cuffed the two men and waiting for a second patrol car so the two were separated on their way to the station. As they waited, Hank received a call from Fowler.

 

“Hey Jeffery… yeah, I'm fine… We don’t know how they got my address, but they sure as fuck won’t be coming back for a dinner party…. Yeah Connor is here, saved my ass… well now that you mention it, yes, I would like to put off going back to that shithole tonight. I'll see you in the morning.” Hank hang up, turning to Connor. “Looks like we got a night off, but these two are scheduled for interrogation first thing in the morning.”

 

The android nodded, “That is very agreeable of the captain,” he said, smiling.

 

It took another few hours for all of the commotion to die down. Hank and Connor talked with the officers about what happened. Sumo had been let back in not long after Connor pulled out the taser, and was snoozing in the bedroom until all of the police cars pulled away.

 

**4:15pm**

 

The two watched as the lights and sirens faded away, Hank scratching his head in frustration. “How in the fuck did they find us?” He let out a soft  _ oof _ as Connor bumped him into the door frame with a hug. 

 

“I'm so glad you are all right, Lieutenant,” Connor muffled into Hank’s shoulder. 

 

Hank returned the embrace, patting him on the shoulder. “You too, kid. Thanks for saving my ass.” Hank pulled Connor away, and nodded his head toward the car. “Let’s get out of the house for a bit. We need groceries, right?”

 

Connor agreed, then blinked his eyes rapidly as he received a message; it was from Kara.

 

_ You are always welcome Connor, both you and your Hank. _

 

They got in the car, still in their pajamas, and drove to the nearest Save-a-Lot. Connor had saved a list of items they needed, and they slowly meandered through the aisles. Hank grumbled about getting so much healthy stuff, but Connor agreed that he could pick up a twelve-pack of beer as well.

 

They started to drive home, the radio softly crooning. “I will begin preparing dinner when we get back.... is there anything in particular you would like me to make?” Connor offered.

 

‘Nah… whatever is easier… but really, I don’t need you cooking for me.” Hank said, looking over at his partner’s expecting face. “I've got a question for ya, if you don’t mind my askin’.” 

 

It was now Connor’s turn to glance over, “a personal question, Lieutenant?” he joked.

 

Hank waved his hand a little, “Yeah, yeah, sort of. Markus emailed me the other day, wasn't sure if you had asked him to or something but then I read through the message….”

 

Connor was surprised, that was certainly unexpected. “What is your question?”

 

“So I know you can feel pain and all that, but he asked if you had ‘felt anything positive’?”

 

“I feel relaxed when listening to music or petting Sumo,” Connor began until Hank cut him off.

 

“Nah I mean like physically? Markus was curious if you were able to, like, feel physical pleasure.” Connor noticed that Hank was rather uncomfortable asking, his heart rate increased and his palms were a little sweaty.

 

“I certainly feels good physically when I am emotionally okay, but strictly from physical contact... “ he thought about it for a bit, “it does feel nice when we are embracing.”

 

Hank muttered a quiet “Uh-huh…”

 

“Since both Markus and I are prototypes, it would not be impossible for us to have similar experiences in such things. I know him and Simon are… rather intimate. Why did he ask you?” Connor asked as Hank pulled the car up to the house.

 

“Beats me…” Hank lied. 

 

They loaded the groceries out of the car, and Connor turned on one of the burners and placed a frying pan above it. Hank went to the backyard with Sumo and a cold beer in tow. 

 

Connor felt something burn in his mechanical gut. Was it curiosity? Jealousy? Want?

 

Desire?

 

As he made dinner, he searched online for information about android intimacy, as well as human intimacy. While most androids were not as fully equipped as those designed for sex or domestic life, it was not unheard of for more expensive or recent models to have that capability. Connor’s body had the appropriate anatomy, but it was hard to say how much detail was put into his construction.

 

He hadn't exactly… looked.

 

He was, however, very familiar with intimacy customs. Part of it was from his programming, and some observation, but also from his connections with the Traci models at the Eden Club. Deviancy caused a mutation in all sensory functions. If he could feel such burning pain, what's to say he couldn't also feel pleasure. 

 

He looked out the window, watching Hank toss a tennis ball several feet from the large dog, before Sumo retrieved it. Hank was very comforting just to observe, he had made so much progress in the last few months, but it wasn't without its setbacks. 

 

_ Connor had stayed at the precinct all night trying to finish the last of the paperwork and expense reimbursement forms from the case they just finished on. He wasn't fond of Hank’s “put off for tomorrow what doesn't need to get done today" mentality, so he offered to trudge through it alone after a long disagreement. _

 

_ When Connor finished, it was nearly 3am. He caught an auto-cab back to Hank’s place, his processors were overworked from not taking the time to go into stasis and figure stuff out.  _

 

_ Connor arrived at Hank’s house, which was his home too now. He gave Sumo a quick pat on the head upon entering, just in time to see Hank gulp down a shot of whiskey. The bottle beside him, which Connor knew had only just been purchased earlier in the week, was already half-gone.  _

 

_ “Well, that took a while…. Where’ve you been?” Hank said hazily, flipping the shot glass around and smashing it into the table. He stared down at the broken glass scattered around him, not realizing his own strength. _

 

_ Connor sighed, approaching carefully and began to clear away the glass. “Don’t get up until I clear the floor, Lieutenant.” _

 

_ “We’re not at work, you can call me Hank,” the older man insisted brazenly. He was about to get up when Connor swung around and pushed him back into his seat. _

 

_ “I said: don’t get up yet,” Connor gritted his teeth, telling Hank right to his face. He swept up the glass shards around the kitchen floor. _

 

_ “What are you, my mom?” Hank snickered, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. Connor shot him a furious look, “Whatcha gonna do about it?” _

 

**_Choose approach:_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Confront_ **

**_Dispose of alcohol_ **

**_Bring to bed_ **

 

_ “Let’s get you to bed, Lieutenant, we still have work in the morning,” Connor said, screwing the cap one the bottle of liquor and attempting to pull him up onto his feet. _

 

_ “You didn’t say ‘pleeeaaaasseee’...” Hank squinted at him with a wry smile. _

 

_ Connor rolled his eyes, smiling back a little, “Pleeeeaaase Hank, let me take you to bed, is that all right?” _

 

_ “Yeah, yeah, whatever…” Hank allowed himself to be hoisted up and brought to the bathroom. “Hey, hey what’s this? I thought you said bed?!”  _

 

_ “Your bed will be the end goal, first, you need to brush your teeth, and possibly rinse your beard of alcohol.” Connor stated plainly, sitting hank down on the toilet and preparing a wet washcloth. _

 

_ Hank groaned; but allowed Connor to continue. “Hey Con, does AA have androids that make house calls? If this police thing gets boring for you, you’re pretty good at cleaning up this drunk, old, washed up, hopeless prick.” _

 

_ Connor pressed the steaming cloth to Hank’s face, rubbing it around a little. “Hank…” Connor’s voice drifted in concern. He tossed the cloth into the tub to deal with later, and started to rinse off a toothbrush.  _

 

_ “Ehh I’ll brush them in the morning, Lieutenant Hangover can deal with it then,” Hank knocked the toothbrush out of Connor’s hand. “I’m going to bed.”  _

 

_ Connor was about to object, but defeatedly just following Hank out of the bathroom and made sure he fell asleep on his side, in case he puked. “Do you need anything else?” He asked. _

 

_ Hank swatted his arm through the air, “Iiiiii’m fine, just lemme sleep it off.” _

 

 

 

Hank’s opinion of himself had gotten slightly better, but Connor knew he still had self-conscious moments of doubt and distaste. Connor flipped the two chicken breasts in the pan, and got a second burner going to make some steamed vegetables. 

 

**Talk to Hank**

**\- Discuss removal of LED**

 

Connor finished preparing the meal as Hank came back inside with Sumo and his empty beer bottle. He tossed it into the recycling bin and got another one from the fridge. “That smells really good, Connor. Uhh… thanks for cooking,” he said, awkwardly sitting down down at the table.

 

“You’re very welcome,” Connor smiled, starting to fill Sumo’s bowls with food and fresh water. “I have been meaning to ask, Hank…” he began. “I have been reconsidering removing my LED.”

 

He turned around to see Hank in the middle of a bite of food, but frozen. “Uhhuh…” he uttered with his mouth half-full of food. Not that he was upset, just surprised.

 

Connor leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms. “I feel that perhaps removing it would be more beneficial than not… another android would be able to tell if I was human or android after all, and it would make me less of a target to humans such as the ones we have been dealing with.” 

 

Hank took a long moment to look at Connor; he lips pursed with indecision, he was staring blankly at the floor, and his LED was spinning dizzily with harsh yellow. Hank always thought Connor had been designed to be too attractive for his own good… the thought of him looking even more human by removing the LED was dangerous in other ways. 

 

But… it wasn't his decision to make. It was Connor’s. If he wanted to take it out, Hank couldn't say no to him.

 

“Do you….uhhh…  want help?” Hank barely registered what he had said until it was spilling out if his mouth. 

 

Connor looked upwards before meeting Hank’s eyes, smiling warmly through his nervousness. “After you have dinner, maybe?” He joined Hank at the table until the man had finished gobbling down the perfectly cooked meal, and Connor even snatched Hank’s dirty dishes away. He placed them carefully in the sink, rinsing then off with water as Hank stood up.

 

“Do we, uh, need any special tools or anything to take it out?” The larger man asked, hands tucked in his jean pockets.

 

“Anything long and thin; leverage is needed to pry it out,” he looked around, and took a butter knife from one of the drawers. “This would work well enough,” he offered.

 

“Let’s maybe not use that… here, I've got one of those letter openers somewhere.” Hank said, digging through a pile of junk mail and magazines.

 

Connor set the knife down, but replied “The knife will work fine, I assure you, it won’t harm me.”

 

Hank pulled out the letter opener, which looked like a small broadsword. “I knew I still had this thing.” 

 

They went to the bathroom so Connor could look at himself one last time with the spinning ring near the temple. He ghosted it with his fingers, before turning to the side so that it was out of view. Hank’s heart nearly imploded when he saw Connor smile. With a nod, the android took in a deep breath, “I think I am ready.”

 

Hank held out the handle end of the opener toward Connor, he pulled it out slowly like it was some ceremonial act he was about to do. Which really, it was.

 

Still breathing rather heavily, Connor lifted the letter opener up to his face, placing the tip of the blade between the yellow and red flashing circle and the synthetic skin outside of it. Once it was embedded, Connor’s hands began shaking. He tried to manage his breathing, which had been quick and shallow, and the red started to flash more frequently than yellow. 

 

Hank softly put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, hoping he would startle his concentration. “You’re all right… you've almost got it, ok?”

 

With a flick of his wrists, Connor lifted the little disk out. It fell to the tile floor with a  _ clink _ followed by the clattering of the small blade. Both of them watched intently as the spot on his face had revealed the cool, white shell underneath with a round indentation. The skin shifted inwards to hide it, covering any sign of the small gap with a new freckle or two in place.

 

Connor reached up, his hands still shaking, and he touched and rubbed the area of skin, massaging it slightly. His eyes watered as his pushed the hand further upwards to run his fingers through his hair. His other hand came up to his head as well, both of them stopping just above and behind his ears. 

 

Hank was speechless as Connor dragged his hands down the back of his head to his neck. The act was something mixed of disbelief, self-awareness, and seductive curiosity. His head tilted from side to side so each could see himself on all angles, the curls on his forehead shifting loosely from the gravity. Hank could only just watch as Connor crossed his arms to hold the opposite elbows, and he quickly turned to face his partner. His eyes looked desperately into Hank’s dumbfounded expression for any hint of reassurance.

 

“You look… you look real handsome, Con…” Hank’s voice was barely above a whisper. The deviant’s mouth fell open as a thirium-blue rush filled the apples of his cheeks. 

 

The stepped cautiously toward one another, as if to go into a much-needed hug. But, neither moved their arms. Connor began to lean in toward Hank’s face, when his hand was grasped suddenly. Hank shook his head, indicating a wordless “ _ follow me _ " and he lead Connor out of the bathroom and over to the couch. 

 

They sat down, hands still grasped, and Hank advanced in to the distance they had left off on. Connor’s eyes darted on all directions, unsure of what he should focus on. He leaned forward slightly and closed his eyes, waiting for Hank to take the initiative. 

 

Taking the bait with a gentle smirk, the lieutenant raised the hand that wasn't holding Connor’s and lifted the android’s face upwards by the jaw. He placed a small kiss on the soft lips, resulting the urge to swear loudly at the discovery if his soft CyberLife had made those lips. He could feel a shudder envelope his partner, and watched as Connor’s eyes re-opened slowly. 

 

It was Connor’s turn to kiss back, leaning his head to the side to get a better angle as he closed in. Both pairs of eyes were now closed, falling deeper into each other. 

 

Connor crashed into Hank’s shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around behind his shoulders. With his voice still shaking,  a small “Thank you,” was muttered quietly. Hank returned the embrace letting Connor’s forehead rest on him. 

 

After a few minutes like that, Hank noticed that Connor had slipped into stasis. He gently leaned back into the couch to face forward and watch a bit of TV with the warm, resting face still nuzzled onto his shoulder. The TV flipped on, volume low; Hank kept his hand in Connor’s but lifted them both up to his knee. He browsed through the channels until he stopped on the Detroit Tigers game; he wasn’t usually a baseball fan but he didn’t feel like seeing what other crap was on.

 

About an hour later, Hank felt the warm body pressed close to him make little whirring sounds that meant Connor was out of stasis. He head lolled around, lifting from Hank’s shoulder. “I apologize… my system became overwhelmed,” Hank could hear the smile in the soft voice as the weight next to him shift closer. 

 

“It’s been a pretty fuckin’ crazy day… I’d say you’ve earned a nap,” the larger man slid his held hand free to wrap it around behind Connor’s shoulders. The smaller man leaned back in, this time resting on Hank’s chest instead of his shoulder. 

 

“We… we shared a kiss earlier.” Connor stated, as if it was something neither of them had been aware of.   
  


“Yeah… we did…” Hank looked down to see where Connor was going with this.

 

Fingers fidgeting without a coin weaving through them, Connor took a moment before continuing, “I would very much like to again… but… I was wondering…” Hank knew this was coming more from Connor’s deviant side than android. He stumbled through his words, trying his hardest to sound more like a person and not a machine. “Have you wanted to kiss me for a while?”

 

Hank scratched the back of his head, now  _ he _ was all flustered. “Ummm… yeah… I just… I dunno… just didn’t wanna make things weird is all.” He fumbled, “I didn’t know if you-”

 

“If I would reciprocate?” Connor asked, leaning up to give Hank a small peck on his cheek.

 

“Yeah, that…” Hank was out of practice with all this. It had been years since someone had kissed him, let alone the rush of a first kiss with someone you think is attractive. But, he was perfectly content just sitting on the couch next to a warm, cute boy who cared for him so much. 

 

Soon enough… Hank had fallen asleep on the couch, too. When Connor noticed the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat that gave it away, he cautiously began pull the throw blanket on the couch over his legs and switched off the television. Sumo waggled up next to Hank’s feet, laying himself right next to them. He leaned back into where he had been laying, to return into stasis until the morning.


	4. Taking Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interrogation is scheduled for the morning; Connor and Hank's relationship as partners is not always easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and leaving feedback! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/22bewbxvy22yhlfgqh75euadi/playlist/7HeYjX650gFk7oJnwt20wW?si=P9Hx80NwQ42o8my2WWkiRg
> 
> I made a playlist to go along with this work!

 

**7:30am**

 

**Expected at DPD Downtown Office at 9am for briefing before 10am interrogation session**

 

**(2) New Emails**

 

Connor awoke to an influx of messages, when all he wanted to do was to let Hank sleep in late. He let Hank stay asleep in the couch for a little while longer so he could prepare breakfast for him and Sumo. The sound of crackling bacon was enough to wake up the Lieutenant, who was groggy and disoriented from sleeping in an unfamiliar position.

 

Hank stood up after stretching and cracking several joints, grumbling as he made a b-line to the bathroom. Connor smiled, twisting a knob to turn the stove off and serving breakfast on the table before working on Sumo’s breakfast. Hank warned that he spoiled the dog too much, but he also walked Sumo fairly often so it evened out.

 

Connor was about to go into the bedroom to change when Hank emerged from the bathroom. Connor gave him a smile and a small wave, which seemed to lighten Hank’s tired face. After a moment, though, his face fell.

 

“Is something the matter, Hank?” Connor asked, taking a step closer.

 

“We…” Hank sighed. “You know we have to… at work, we can't make it obvious…” The words just couldn't come out right, but Connor knew what he meant. 

 

The android shrugged, smiling optimistically, “It would be unprofessional to make our personal relationship explicit in the office.” Hank nodded, but there was something else bothering him. “What?”

 

Hank lifted a closed fist to reveal Connor’s LED light. “Those two bastards will notice that you removed it when we interrogate them today.” 

 

A heavy silence hung in the air. Connor stared at the unlit circle blankly, like something had broken in him. 

 

“Connor… I don't-" 

 

“No, no…” Connor interrupted curtly, taking the light from Hank’s hand and snapped it back into its spot. After a few seconds, it pulsed back to life with a dissatisfying yellow. He gave a hesitant smile, “It's just for now."

 

They finished getting ready, and they got in the car with just enough time to make it to the station for the briefing. They remained at a safe distance, sometimes exchanging glances, but nothing that would raise suspicion. The first suspect, Lucas Croft, sat cuffed in the interrogation room. 

 

Hank watched as Connor entered slowly, the suspect didn’t even look up or react. Connor sat down with a folder of case files, asking question after question. Mr. Croft did respond, but mostly with a lot of “I don’t know’s". It turned out that he was merely hired help; Howard’s people tracked his social media and saw he disliked androids and recruited him recently. 

 

He was still charged with trespassing and threatening Hank, but wasn't in deep enough with the organized group of humans taking androids and deviants.

 

Hank and Connor sat in the viewing room next to interrogation area, “I don’t want you going in there for this one!” Hank yelled.

 

“You know I am better at this, Lieutenant! I can create a strategy more quickly based on his responses, I know how to phrase questions he can't dodge.” Connor replied sternly. “I will not allow my… previous mistake to affect my abilities in this investigation.”

 

Hank grabbed his partner by the lapels of his uniform jacket, “Listen Connor, I don’t give a shit how good you are! I'm not letting you set foot in that room as long as that shitbag sits in that chair. That's final!” He realized how rough he had been; he didn’t mean to fall back into his old aggressive self. 

 

Connor was startled to say the least; his LED flickered red, and he felt a pain in his abdomen and fought the urge to rip the damn light back out. 

 

“I’m… shit, I’m sorry Connor.”

 

Connor raised his hand, stopping Hank. “It’s fine. But please wear the earpiece if I think of anything for you to ask him.” His voice was more monotone than Hank had ever heard before; it made the older officer break with guilt. He took the tiny earpiece, giving Connor one more nod before entering the room. Connor returned it solemnly. “I've got your back, Lieutenant.”

 

Hank stepped into the room, greeted by an unsightly, sickening smile. “Hello Anderson.” 

 

“Howard King… let’s get to it, shall we?”

 

A disgruntled citizen who lost his job. Turned to crime, and made a living by kidnapping androids and sold them for parts. Even made some cash off of Zlatko, the rich tech expert who they arrested months ago.

 

But with the android uprising, it had become less about money and more about the message.

 

“You see, Lieutenant… these machines do not really feel. Even if they react like they can, it is still just a simulation in a walking, talking doll. It can still only do as much as it was programmed to. They are malfunctioning, and brain-washing us humans until they can seize the moment to strike,” King explained.

 

_ “Ask him about the coding software on the laptop.”  _ Connor suggested. 

 

“That computer you plugged into our fellow officer transmitted something into his operating system. What was that?” Hank asked.

 

King’s smiled eased into a more cool, smug look. “That robot was the second most advanced proto-type that CyberLife ever built.” 

 

“ _ Second-most? How and why would he be that specific…”  _ Connor wondered aloud.

 

“And how would you know what the first most would be, Mr. King?” Hank asked.

 

Howard attempted to sit back in his chair a little, only getting so far. “An old friend of mine was pretty high up in the advanced manufacturing lab. A former employee, now that CyberLife has disintegrated into the dust…” He scoffed, “It looks remarkably like that thing you rescued from our basement.”

 

Connor’s face became sharp and angry. He watched Hank silently to see how he planned to follow this up. “This... former employee also helped with the incapacitating software that makes androids kill themselves? That's how you get them all?”

 

The suspect laughs broadly, “FUCK no… we beat those bastards ourselves. But that waste of parts who failed its mission was lined up to be replaced and mass produced. Even while it was out there with you researching deviants, CyberLife was observing and fine tuning the software that keeps androids perfectly obedient. The ‘Connor’ model was  _ flawed _ because of Kamski’s original programming held a back door, a fail safe if you will.” 

 

Connor stared at the man’s face as his spoke, unbelieving and angry.

 

“But the designs for the replacement were magnificent… taller and broader, better in every way. The ‘Connor’ was obsolete the moment it first set foot on a crime scene, it was made to be broken and replaced easily,” he explained. “That line of code is only the beginning. It will spread like wildfire through all androids, starting with that one. They will all be begging to be destroyed, whether by our hands or their own.” He leaned in toward Hank, “We are everywhere, you can't find us all. That prototype Markus will die by the hands of it's own followers.”

 

Hank slammed the table to startle the suspect and to put space between them. “I want names and addresses, as many as you have, and maybe you’ll get a few days of sunshine in a cement park before you rot to death in prison.” Hank demanded.

 

“ _ Hank… we need to know what that software does. If it is dangerous, then…”  _ Connor’s thoughts trailed off as the cuffed man continued speaking. He looked toward the wall, like he was about to speak to nothing in particular.

 

“Activate RK800 Number 313 248 317 - 51, pin number 51772…”

 

Connor felt the pounding in his head return, and strained to say “Hank…”

 

“Shut the fuck up right now!” Hank demanded, drawing his gun.

 

“..324. Manual override. Wait for new instructions.”

 

Connor’s hands were shaking. “Get out of there, Lieutenant.” He said, sitting down before his legs gave out.

 

Instead, he heard a loud  _ slap _ as Hank shuts up King. “No more of that, ya fuckin’ bastard.” 

 

King’s face twisted as blood leaked from his nose. “Oh…. So it is listening to our conversation, is it? It managed to survive?’

 

Hank grumbled as he left the room, but as soon as he wasn't in sight of the suspect he dashed to the next room panicked. “Connor!” He called as he swung the door open. He saw the android covering his auditory receptors and shaking violently in his seat. The audio coming from the interrogation room had been shut off, but Hank could see his partner was in bad shape. “Connor?” Hank’s voice dropped several decibels, and he knelt down to inspect the shivering form.

 

“Y-y-you were right, Lieutenant,” Connor choked out. He dropped his hands, only to have them taken hold by Hank’s. 

 

“Are you all right? We can ask Chen or Miller to take over…” Hank said. 

 

Connor accepted the physical touch, relieved in a way, but shook his head. “We are so close, Hank. Please, I… I need to know what their plan is. He is likely not be the only one with that information, but right now he's all we've got to solving this.” 

 

“All right… but if he tries to pull any shit you cut out of the audio again, all right?” Hank said, giving the hands a squeeze before begrudgingly returning. 

 

He did not like the suspect’s facial expression when he got back to the room. It was too proud… too cold. “Names and addresses, now.” Hank said, sliding him a pen and paper. The man took it, beginning to scratch down some contact information. When he finished, Hank slipped it wordlessly into his folder. “So… what the fuck did you do to my partner, huh? Had to ask another officer to take over next door." Hank bluffed.

 

“It was programmed to obey commands, just as they all are. The pin number is deep in their function code used by repair techs to have complete control,” King leaned sideways, crossing his legs. “Risky to have that thing on the force, isn't it, Hank?”

 

Hank glared at him, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

 

He heard Connor speak through the earpiece “ _ I have located the information in my programming with the pin number. I may be able to change it. Ask him about the house.”  _

 

“What about that property where we saw you the other night?” Hank asked, squinting his eyes slightly. “Looks pretty lived-in by you sadistic fucks.” 

 

The man shrugged, “Just one of our locations that belonged to a like-minded friend… he left town with his family.” He swiveled his head nonchalantly, “not even one of our more active places.” 

 

“Are one of these addresses one of those… those places?”

 

“Possibly Anderson… you will just have to find out.” 

 

Hank used a lot of willpower to not sock the guy on his face, but he took his folder with the scribbled-on paper and got up to leave. “That will be it for now… I'll likely see your ugly fuckin’ mug again before this is all over.” 

 

“Seems likely enough to me… oh, and Connor-" 

 

Hank turned, slightly stunned. He thought for sure that King had believed his bluff.

 

“See to it that you find what you’re looking for. Would be a shame for you to fail another mission,” he said staring directly at the darkened window to his left.

 

The detective closed the door behind him, rejoining Connor in the observation room. He was still jumpy and fidgeting, as if anticipating something to sneak up behind him. “What a creep... “ Hank said to him, glancing back at the suspect as two officers escorted him back to a cell. He looked back at Connor, who had a thousand-yard stare, as if barely reacting to Hank’s presence.

 

“Lock the door, Leiutenant,” he asked. His eyes finally met Hank’s, “Please.”

 

Hank wasn't sure if he complied because he was concerned for Connor or afraid of him. The deviant had never sounded so threateningly dark.

 

After the click of the lock, Hank approached Connor slowly. “I have two favors to ask of you,” he said a little more calmly.

 

Hank took a seat next to him, “All right.”

 

“May I see your phone for a moment?” Connor requested, hand outstretched.

 

Hank hesitated; “Why? Explain first, then I'll hand it over,” he pulled the phone out if his pocket but kept it in his hand.

 

“I will disconnect it temporarily from any network, and interface with it in my hand to open the line of code with my security pin. You will need to change the number.” Connor stated, his voice wavering.

 

“Just to… like... any number?” Hank asked.

 

Connor shook his head, “No… preferably to a number you alone will know. Something arbitrary, like a date that couldn't be found in public records. I will also not know it… it is the only way to be safe as we continue this investigation.” 

 

Hank nodded, starting to run through different numbers he could use, before speaking again. “Okay... got one.” He placed the phone in Connor’s palm, which turned a pearly white. The android closed his eyes, LED flickering yellow in sync with his eyes blinking rapidly. Just as Connor described, there was a long stream of code appearing on the phone’s screen, scrolling rapidly until it reached a certain spot. Hank recognized the string of numbers that King had rattled off, and carefully deleted the line of numbers. He replaced them slowly, then finding the familiar floppy disk icon to save the change, and Connor opened his eyes.

 

“Thank you.” Connor said, a little more warmly.

 

“What about the other thing?” Hank huffed, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

 

Connor grew nervous; “I… I am still in an influential state, even though we changed the pin number. Howard King’s instruction of "finding what I'm looking for" was too vague for my system to accept the new objective. I need you to… assign me a mission.”  Connor fished a quarter from his jacket pocket, moving it between his fingers like a clicking gear. His nervous ticks always caught up with him.

 

“Do I have to say any of that weird lingo or anything?” Hank asked; he wasn't sure how he felt about this. Let alone the pin number, this felt like backtracking all of Connor’s progress to become an individual. His progress of becoming human.

 

“The ‘weird lingo’ is unnecessary, but it is preferable for you to be clear and specific.” He now held the coin between is two thumbs and index fingers, bending it slightly in frustration. 

 

“All right Connor… your objective is to investigate the crime scene with me later.” Hank said, trying desperately to convince himself this wasn't here.

 

A wave of relief radiated from his partner. Connor bent over, exhaling some long-held breath and dropping the coin. “Thanks, Hank…” he said.

 

Hank stood up, getting closer to Connor and pulling him up onto his feet and held him closely. Connor’s arms hung loosely for a moment, before reaching up unsuredly under Hank’s arms. “You’re all right… I gotcha.” Hank mumbled, “I'm sorry about earlier.”

 

“No… your judgement was correct. If I had gone in, things would have been much worse.” Connor said, a hint if fear stil attaching to his words.

 

Hank pulled him away, indicating toward the door, “Let's review some photos before heading to that crime scene, all right? And then home after that.”

 

Connor followed him out; they sat at their respective desks, right beside each other. They looked through and discussed certain areas to get a better look at upon arrival. Hank let Connor pick the music as they drive across town in the rain; he picked an older Knights of the Black Death album. When they pulled up, Hank noticed that most of the chaos had subsided. Police tape was still up, but only two cops stationed outside. One human, one android. Hank really appreciated the diversity at their station since the revolution, and he knew Connor liked it too. 

 

They got out of the car, nodding to the two officers as they went inside. Connor held back a moment before going through the front door, hoping Hank wouldn’t notice. Of course he did, but just gave his partner a reassuring pat on the back. Connor nodded, following behind. For the most part; the house looked very unassuming. Three bedrooms, fairly modern fixtures, obvious signs that an android was owned on the premises. But, there were also small details that showed it’s changed purpose; boxes of old CyberLife uniforms stuffed in closets, the fridge was stocked mostly with alcohol and old pizza boxes. Two of the bedrooms belonged to small children, which looked like they had been torn apart chaotically when the family left town. 

 

And of course… there was the basement. Connor followed Hank down the stairs, letting him take lead of where to look for any clues. He observed the splatters of blue blood, some of which was his, that Hank couldn’t see. There was also a large, red-brownish stain in the concrete floor from the man whom Hank had shot. The lieutenant kneeled down, looking through some of the scattered parts, which twitched less furiously than when they were last there. 

 

“Notice anything weird about this stuff? Their models, or anything?” Hank tried to ask delicately.

 

Connor scanned the parts in the room. A wide host of spare parts; some were so indistinct that they could’ve belonged to any android, really. He looked through some of the larger parts: full limbs, a detached head, a torso tossed in the back corner. “Most are household models, there may be a few professional units but it’s hard to say with how interchangeable many biocomponents can be.” He compiled the information on all of the manufacturing information: dates, locations, different generations of models. “Most of them are more recent models, likely had warranties on them so their owners would be able to replace them if lost for free.” Connor staggered backwards, “They wouldn’t be searched for if they were easily replaceable. The oldest parts are from about a year and a half ago.”

 

“Shit…” Hank commented blankly. “They talked about selling off parts and pieces… but who would be buying?” 

 

Connor looked at the chair that had been toppled over in the center of the room. He shook himself out of his memories to respond to Hank. “I would imagine tinkerers, or people making illegal modifications.”

 

The lieutenant paced around, looking for something out of place. “Is there anything… important missing with these? Any models not present?” In the most human act Hank had seen all day, Connor’s hands flew up to his mouth, “What it is? Connor?”

 

“There are no Traci models,” he said. 

 

Hank looked confused, “Yeah you said there weren’t really any service models, right?”

 

One hand rested on his chin, and the other flailing as he processed the information, Connor nearly spun around the room as he explained. “Traci's are uncommon, but more distinct than other models. Service models, especially Traci’s, on average deviated more frequently than household models.  They were treated like machines, while most domestic models were treated like family, for the most part.” Connor stepped up to Hank, who was slowly starting to connect the dots as well. “These androids were still very compliant, and could be manipulated or influenced more easily. They were targets that wouldn’t put up a fuss if ordered to follow a stranger.”

 

“Do you think any of their owners were paid off to not say anything?” Hank pulled out his analog notebook, eagerly putting down notes for their report later.

 

“We could probably get records of any warranty replacements where the android just completely disappeared, and check the serial numbers. Their last recorded location would’ve been saved, and if they had not yet deviated…”

 

“We could find out where they all went...” Hank finished. “Still wanna go straight home?” 

 

Connor hadn’t realized he was smiling until that moment; it really was a rewarding rush to put the pieces together. He wondered if this is why Hank stayed in the force for so long…   
  
“I suppose we could head back to the station and start putting some data together,” he winked.

 

They called in their hypothesis to one of the data managers, who started requesting the files from CyberLife. An hour turned into two; Hank ordered himself dinner to be delivered to the station, which nearly got cold because of how wrapped up he was sorting through reports with Connor.   
  


Around 9pm, they had finally gotten all of the information they needed. “I’m starting to prepare the city map with the last identified locations… where is that list of addresses that King gave us? Let’s see if any of them match.” After typing in a few more parameters, the map of the city light up with hordes of little dots, many of which seemed clustered in about a dozen specific locations. Connor could feel his thirium pump through him a little faster just looking at the sheer number of them. There had to be over a hundred, maybe even a few hundred. “The… the addresses, Hank?”

 

Hank read off the four addresses; Two with names attached. One of them only had a couple of matches, the the other three corresponded with some of the more densely reported areas. Near an old industrial facility, there were a large number of dots cloistered together. It wasn’t the location of Jericho’s original base, so it must’ve been the other location their suspect had hinted about. He and Hank decided to refer to it as “The Castle”.

 

“All right, boys, good job tonight.” Fowler, who had stayed in the office later to keep up with their investigation, stood by their desks with a cup of coffee after they had broken down what they found for him. “Go home, get some rest, take tomorrow off. Oh! And your time off was approved… let’s get this thing closed before that, okay?” He asked, shaking both of their hands before taking his leave.

 

“Excellent job this evening, Lieutenant,” Connor commended him, smiling, as they stepped out into the chilly night to the car.

 

“Yeah, yeah… not too shabby yourself. I’ll just be glad when these fuckers are locked away for life.” He said, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

 

“Actually, before we go home… I think you’ve earned a reward. Jimmy’s should still be open this late.” Connor offered, “Drinks are on me.”

 

Hank stared dumbfoundedly, “Uhhhh… really?” This was quite the change from Connor’s usual insistence that he should stop drinking, and now he was encouraging it?   
  
Connor shrugged leaning in closer to Hank, “Like I said, you’ve earned it today. And I’ll be there to count your drinks and drive you home.” Connor snuck his hands into Hank’s, giving them a light squeeze before snatching the keys. He dangled them up near Hank’s face, giving a cheeky grin before breaking Hank with his signature wink.   
  
“Uhhh… well you’ve convinced me. Let’s go!” Hank chortled, bumping Connor by the shoulder as they walked the three blocks to the bar.

 

Same old faces all these months later… Hank couldn’t help but smile at the thought that the last time he was here was the night Connor came and found him for their first case together. 

 

“Hey Jim… two doubles, neat,” He said upon entering, earning a hearty welcome from the bartender. 

 

Connor was about to sit beside him on a stool, but stopped for a moment. “I’ll be right back, Hank.” He said quietly, walking to the back to the bathroom. He strode through the swinging doors, stopping at the mirror just beyond Hank’s view. 

 

“So, how’s it been Anderson? Hear you’ve been making a name for yourself, again.” Jimmy greeted the distracted patron, starting to pour bourbon into two glasses.   
  
“Yeah, yeah… been better for the first time in years,” he said, glancing for a moment to the door in the back.   
  
“That.. uhhh… that android is the one who came and pulled you outta here all those months ago, yeah? I saw him on the news after the revolution… that dude had like a whole  _ army  _ of guys following him.” Jimmy slid the two glasses in front of Hank.

 

“Not an army… they just wanted to be free,” Hank corrected. He heard the squeak of the door hinges come from the bathroom; his mouth fell open and was slack-jawed for what felt like the longest time.

  
Connor had not only removed his LED again, but he had taken off his uniform jacket. He held it folded across his arm, placing it on a coat hook under the bar’s countertop. The top two buttons had also been undone, so he didn’t look so formally dressed; he had also messed around with his hair around so it was a little more wavy.   
  
Hank was trying really hard not to get a boner, but was failing horribly. 

 

They sat at the bar, chatting with Jimmy and a few of the other patrons. After a while, Hank had convinced Connor to have one drink with him, as long as it wouldn’t hurt him.    
  
“Is there anything you want to try?” Hank asked, “I know you usually just have your weird blood smoothie thing, but you can taste, right?”

 

Connor looked through the variety of bottles on the shelf behind the bar, “I can taste, but if I consumed any food I’m not really sure where it would go, which is why I haven’t tried yet. Is there anything you recommend?”

 

“Well, you could have straight up whiskey like me, or Jimmy’s got some weird fucking flavored vodkas…” Hank knocked twice on the counter, “Hey Jim, this kid’s never tasted anything in his life. Whatcha got?”

 

After careful deliberation, (in other words, Hank’s “professional” opinion), Connor was poured a shot of amaretto. Hank received a matching shot glass, and clinked them together before pouring it down his throat. Connor, on the other hand, took a small sip to enjoy the taste before ingesting the rest. He stared down at the empty glass, gyrating it around on its base.

**Warning - Thirium dilution may affect functionality**

 

“Well…?” Hank asked, excitedly hanging on the edge for Connor’s reaction.

 

Connor looked up, ignoring the error messages that popped up. The faintest whisper of blue blushed across his cheeks, “it’s very good! Apologies… I’m still trying to process the sensation.” His soft smile all but shook Hank sober; this kid was going to be the death of him.   
  
They stuck around for another hour, Hank enjoying his drinks and Jimmy indulging him by having Connor trying small tastes various different soda flavors. Just before closing, Connor managed to drag Hank back to the car. “Whewwwww I haven’t felt this good in  _ years _ … or at least while drunk.” The lieutenant’s voice was as wobbly as he was walking.

 

Connor opened the door to let Hank fall into the passenger seat, making sure he was buckled in before going around to the other side and starting to drive home. “You had a good time this evening, I take it?” Connor asked, a little sarcastically.

 

Hank leaned back in his seat, “Yeah… yeah I did. Uhh…. thanks for suggesting it.” Hank said, watching the lights flicker as they drove through the city. “I, uh…. I didn’t quite apologize as much as I wanted to… about earlier,” he said. His good mood took a slight turn, which made Connor feel guilty.   
  
“No, Hank… you are still my superior, you have good judgement and I should not have argued about it.” Connor said, his eyes going back and forth between the busy road and Hank.

 

“Yeah, but… I’m just… I dunno, Connor, I’m protective of you. I don’t know what I would do without you some days,” the sincerity in his voice surprised even him. 

 

Connor put a hand gently on Hank’s knee, “I feel similarly about you, Hank. And not because I need to or I’m programmed to… but because I _want_ to.” He said.

 

In an instant, the hand flew up from Hank’s knee to across his chest as Connor braked the car to a difficult halt. Hank was about to yell a string of curses when a car crossing the intersection in front of them ran its red light at a dangerously high speed. Connor looked to his side, a pained expression on Hank’s face.

 

“Are you all right?!” he asked desperately.

  
Hank was panting, startled, “Yeah… yeah I’m fine. Just whiplash from stopping so quick.” He rubbed his neck and shoulder. “That was fuckin’ close… what a bastard!”

 

“I caught the license plate and alerted the nearest patrol car. Let’s head home.” 

 

Connor took it slow and careful the rest of the way home for Hank’s sake; they didn’t need anymore excitement for one day. The android got his partner inside and on the couch, taking Sumo for a short walk after he gave him a late dinner. Hank managed to sober up enough to get himself some painkillers and a glass of water while Connor was out, and put the record back on that they had been listening to.

  
Hank was growing a soft spot for Ella Fitzgerald… and his deviant partner. He thought about the tender kiss they had shared the night before, and hoped it wouldn’t be too much to ask for another one when he came back with the big, lumbering dog. It was about twenty minutes later when Connor returned; Sumo now thoroughly exhausted and Connor wasn’t far behind. He had gotten used to the comforting recharges from going into stasis more often; it was probably better for his biocomponents, too.   
  
He leaned over Hank’s shoulder from behind the couch, speaking softly near his left ear. “I’m going to change into something a little less stiff… would you like me to help you get into something else as well?” Connor offered, giving Hank a chaste kiss just above his beard.

 

“Sounds fine with me,” he said, pushing himself up off the couch and waddling drunkenly to the bedroom.

 

Connor purposefully left the light on the ceiling off, only turning on the small lamp on the end table so it wasn’t too harsh. Before Hank had a chance to sit on the bed, Connor pulled him gently by the hem of his shirt. “May I?” he asked innocently.

 

Hank nodded, letting the eager android unbutton his dress shirt slowly. Hank shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor, and Connor began to pull up on the undershirt, lifting it above both of the heads before collecting both shirts to throw in the hamper. When he turned back around, he let out a small gasp.   
  
“Hank… I… I didn’t know you had any tattoos,” he said, smiling brightly. His fingers gently traced the faded wings surrounding a picture frame, all of which was covered in a layer of gray chest hair.

 

Hank chuckled, “Yeah, I was some crazy kind of rebellious in college. A friend of mine was going to school to be a tattoo artist and needed a human canvas.” He shuddered as the delicate fingers caressed his chest. “You should see the ones on my thighs!” 

 

Connor dragged his fingers downwards, kneeling as he went. “I need to remove your pants, anyway…” he said coyly. Hank looked away, verging on embarrassed, as Connor undid the button and fly of the dark wash jeans. Hank assisted by shimmying his hips so that pants would slide down, and Connor guided him by lifting one leg at a time to remove them completely. Connor was about to reach for the waistband of the boxers when Hank stopped him.

 

“You...uhhh… sure?” He asked. 

 

Connor’s face went full puppy-dog-eyes, “Yes… wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep in a fresh pair?”    
  
Hank shrugged, still wanting to look away. “Yeah yeah, just… don’t have any high expectations.” 

 

His partner gave his hand a trusting squeeze before pulling the boxers away. “You shouldn’t sell yourself so short, Hank,” he winked.

 

“Christ, Connor, you’re gonna give me a fucking nosebleed.” Hank enunciated quite clearly, as if steadfastly resisting that he was so contently drunk while being undressed by a cute guy. “Well, now it’s your turn.”  Hank pushed himself toward Connor, who did his best to assist Hank so he wouldn’t hurt his neck by bending over. The pristinely white dress shirt and matching undershirt were tossed to the side haphazardly, and the dark dress pants were pushed alongside them. 

 

“I… don’t think I’ll be able to reach down to get your…” Hank said, as he was gently pushed to the edge of the bed until he was sitting down. “Oh… uhh okay.”   
  
“I’ve got it…” Connor said. In an effort to please Hank, he was more eager than he realized he was comfortable being. Hesitating, his quivering fingers reached down for his boxer briefs. 

 

Hank wanted to breathe in this moment forever. The soft, yellow-ish light on Connor’s lithe body was all too good to be real. He watched, sitting so very still, as the deeply blushing young man began to pull away at the last remaining piece of clothing. Except, of course, that both of them still had socks on.   
  
If he didn’t already believe Connor was the most perfectly handsome being, this would’ve convinced him. His slender form curved ever so gently, and Hank now knew the answer to the burning question of whether Connor was built anatomically exact. And then some.

 

Connor took a deep breath, and took a brave step toward where Hank was sitting on the bed. He leaned in, brushing the sides of their cheeks together before trailing a few kisses toward Hank’s mouth. Once their lips met, however, Connor could feel a strange tightness across his chest as his breathing became irregular. It was still such a strange feeling, to feel at all, let alone the rushing thrill of even just kissing.

 

Hank broke away from the kiss, “Easy there… give me a sec.” He started to catch his breath, Connor observing wantonly. 

 

Connor took the moment to play with Hank’s shaggy hair. Combing through it carefully, he waited for Hank’s signal that he was ready again. He took note of the growing hardness between his partner’s legs. 

 

Before they could go any further, Hank found himself nearly failing asleep sitting upright. “Sorry... I'm wiped... “ he said, letting Connor gently rest him down on his pillow. He was mildly aware of the soft blanket that started to cover him, and the assuring kiss on his head that was followed by a whispered “ _ Sweet dreams, Hank.” _

 

Connor rolled to the side, and put on Hank’s bathrobe to finish taking care of a few things. He started a load of laundry, made sure all the doors were locked, and that Sumo had some fresh water and took his medicine. 

 

He returned to the bedroom; the sight of the happily sleeping lieutenant eased him as he laid down next to him. 

 

**Entering stasis**

 

**3**

 

**2**

 

**1**


	5. Day Off (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor enjoy a day off before continuing their investigation. Mostly, enjoying each other. 
> 
> (NSFW)

  
  


Hank’s headache upon waking up wasn't nearly as bad as he anticipated, but that strain in his neck was still an annoyance. He figured he wouldn't fall back asleep until he got another dose of painkillers. He opened his eyes, and letting a silent yawn escape as he pushed himself up. He couldn't turn his head without pain shooting from his shoulder and up his neck, so he didn’t immediately notice that Connor was still in stasis beside him. He glanced at the clock, it wasn’t even 6am.

 

It wasn’t until Hank was standing in the doorway that he saw the peaceful-looking form on the far side of the bed. Connor was wrapped in his robe; just barely covering enough to be modest; his chest moved softly up and down.

 

Hank moved quietly into the bathroom, grabbing mouthwash cup to rinse and then fill with a bit of water. Just enough to wash down a few ibuprofens, and then back to bed. Sumo was snoring loudly on the couch; some things never changed.

 

He crept back into the bedroom, finally deciding to throw on some underwear and an old pair of sweatpants. Connor had not budged one bit; his face calm with a hint of a smile. The older man sunk bank onto the bed, but wasn’t really feeling too tired yet, so he propped himself upright and read the book on his nightstand that he had been meaning to get through.

 

A little while later, at 7:30 on the dot, Connor took in a much deeper breath and slowly opened his eyes. He turned to see Hank reading beside him, a content smile sweeping across his face. 

 

“Good morning, Hank. Have you been awake long?” He asked, suddenly concerned.

 

Hank marked his spot in the book before setting it aside, replying “Nah, not long at all. Just enjoying the peace and quiet.” Connor scooted himself upright, right into Hank’s open arm for a small cuddle. “Did you sleep okay? Errrr… stasis okay? Not sure what the grammar on that is…”

 

Connor leaned into him, humming softly at the comfort and warmth. After a tumultuous couple of days, the built up stress and emotion seemed to suddenly crumble away. This feeling was the opposite of all of the pain, frustration, and anxiousness he had been feeling: he was truly happy.

 

“Didn’t think was that robe was all that comfy, but it looks great on you.” Hank commented, eliciting an apologetic response from his partner.   
  
“I’m sorry! I should’ve asked, I just-” 

 

“Stooooooooop, you silly, adorable dork… I just said it looked cute when you wear it. Even if I do wanna tear it off of you,” Hank pulled at the tied waistband of the robe.  Connor loosened the knot to remove it, rolling over onto Hank’s belly so they would be face to face with each other.

 

Breathing heavily, heat rising between them, Connor leaned in to Hank’s lips. His hands braced himself on the burly man’s chest, making sure Hank didn’t need to strain his neck if he didn’t need to. Hank noticed this, of course, thankful and bashful just thinking about the thoughtfulness of the gesture. 

 

As they kissed deeper, mouths opening wider in passion, Connor let out a small moan. He lifted a hand to his mouth, embarrassed, but Hank took it in his own to show it was all right. They continued, Connor letting a few more noises escape; it was driving Hank crazy. He guided Connor’s soft hand down his torso, still locking lips, but easing Connor’s hand over his throbbing erection. He was too wasted to do anything about it last night, but now it was driving him crazy.

 

He felt the corners of Connor’s lips turn upwards upon taking a soft grip of his dick. He could feel his blood pressure spike in excitement… and then something dawned on him. “Hey Connor… just… you know how to, ya know…” Hank tried to ask between kisses.   
  
Connor’s smile broadened further, until his dimples puckered in. “I have been doing my research, Lieutenant,” he responded.

 

Hank chuckled back, “Careful there, say  that too much and that’ll be all I think of while we’re at work tomorrow.”

 

His partner continued stroking, careful not to use too much friction but keeping at a fast enough pace that Hank could feel the familiar need arise in his groin. “Shit… ohhh shit…” Hank’s stamina wasn’t quite what it used to be, so it didn’t take that long for his member to quiver and spill white, hot liquid from the tip. Hank panted exhaustedly from the sudden rush of ecstasy, vaguely recognizing the shifting weight on top of him. His breath hitched ad he felt a pair of lips lap up the spilled cum. “Fuck...me…” he uttered.

 

He glanced down to see the all-too-happy face responsible for his orgasm tenderly kiss his member as waves of aftershocks shook Hank to the bones. Connor rejoined him against the headboard, enjoying the sight of Hank’s flushed expression. “Warn a guy, wouldja? Christ, Connor…” he swore happily. 

 

Hank was particularly spoiled the rest of the morning, which felt so surreal to him. Connor cooked some pancakes and sausage links, agreeing to taste little bits of Hank’s plate. He turned on the record player, finally flipping to the second side of  _ Lullabies of Birdland _ . 

 

The gray-haired officer thought for sure he had to be dreaming. It had been decades since he had such a restfully blissful morning. He wasn't one to let emotions catch up to him, but…

 

“Hank, what's wrong?” Connor asked carefully. 

 

Hank looked up through his tear-filled eyes, “Nothin’... not a damn thing. This is the happiest I've been in… a while.” Connor reached across the table to hold Hank’s left hand, “Humans are weird, we will cry over just about anything.” Connor stayed quiet, watching Hank eat with his head rested on his own arm. 

 

While Hank showered, Connor took Sumo for a quick walk around the block. The smell of piney soap and the stream made Hank so refreshed, he started taking care of the dishes and laundry while Connor was out. The damn kid was such a good influence on him… such minor tasks would have been impossible before Connor moved in. He would've still been passed out in bed, or possibly at the kitchen table with a bottle of liquor nearly drained beside him. 

 

He saw Connor coming back from around the corner, jogging in Hank’s old police academy hoodie with a very slobbery dog in tow. Just before coming back inside, he watched Connor bring Sumo to the backyard, kneeling in front of him and spoiling him with a treat and some belly scratches in the grass. Their eyes met through the window, exchanging knowing smiles. Connor patted the ground for Suno to roll back over before coming back inside. 

 

“Sumo has been responding well to my exercise regimen! He was able to keep up at a high intensity pace a minute longer than he used to.” Connor explained gleefully. “His age certainly isn't stopping him from improvement,” he teased, pecking Hank’s cheek.

 

“Is that so?” Hank playfully replied, and rushed Connor up against the kitchen cabinets. He locked him down with a smooch on the lips, which Connor eagerly returned. “Do deviants get horny, Connor?”

 

Connor kissed him again wordlessly, shrugging a little. “I'm not sure I would know… perhaps I would need to experience the sensation more often to be sure what it feels like,” he winked.

 

“Why you little…” Hank swung him around so he was up against the wall with a loud  _ thud _ , trapping the small wrists with his palms. The made out messily, saliva coating their lips and the skin just around, and Hank pressed one leg between both of Connor’s. Connor moaned out in surprise, pressing himself further into the motion.

 

“Hank… Hank, please....” he shuddered in anticipation, only for the pressure to pull away suddenly. The feeling of abandonment didn’t sit well with him, calling out the name once more.

 

“Yeah?” Hank replied, pretending to start on cleaning the dishes again. 

 

Dragging his feet across the floor, Connor fell into Hank’s arms, kissing the corner of his neck. After another moan of pleasure, Connor doubled over grasping at his torso. Hank became caught up in worry, seeing the synthesized skin surrounding Connor’s thirium pump fade away to white. Connor looked like he was about to pass out, leaning against the wall with his face tilted upwards. He tore the sweatshirt off in a flash, pressing himself hard into the wall.

 

“Fuck! Connor, what's wrong?” Hank cried out.

 

Connor delicately slid one if the plastic plates on his lower torso upwards, revealing a mess of wires and biocomponents. He reached out, grabbing Hank’s hand, and slid inside and down beyond view. Hank was in the verge of freaking out, his hand twitched against a collection of soft tubes and wires. When he did, Connor’s brows flinched and he swore needingly.

 

“Fuck, Hank…” 

 

Something clicked for Hank that this was pleasurable, so he kept going. He gently tugged with his fingers woven between the different cords. The wires were buzzing with electricity, and he could feel rhythmic circulation of thirium coarsing through Connor. There wasn't much of a human equivalence to this kind of touching, but Hank was eager to learn.

 

He stepped closer to his android lover, holding his hand tenderly but pressing it against the wall next to his head. “Tell me what feels good,” he asked softly. 

 

Connor gulped before the instinctual panting took over. He could barely get the words out, “Just like that… just like… rougher… keep going…”

 

With stroking motions, Hank did what he was told. It was clearly working, because a dopey smile was plastered across Connor’s blue-tinged face. The sweet, innocent virgin was insatiably thrusting his hips toward Hank to get him to touch all of the right spots. 

 

It was warm inside of Connor, not quite dripping wet but there was a thin layer of steamy condensation that coated the hot silicon parts. 

 

Connor, meanwhile, was overwhelmed from all of the sparking synapses. It wasn't painful, but it had a similar rush of pleasure and depletion of energy. He was worried about asking too much of Hank, but there was no way he could let him stop now. Connor  _ needed _ this. He needed to feel whatever release was ahead of him. 

 

Connor’s free hand drifted toward his hard penis, stroking it unsuredly but loving the way it made him feel. He whispered his partner’s name between breaths, on the verge of begging for relief. 

Hank leaned in, affirming his lips upon Connor’s and feeling the hot gasps puff against his cheeks. 

 

“Please …. Fuck… Hank!!!” Connor shuddered hard through his orgasm. His soft brown eyes widened as they flickered back into his head. He nearly screamed his final moan, feeling Hank remove his hands and steady Connor as he collapsed in his arms. 

 

**Errorerrorerrror**

 

**System Overload**

 

**Physical functions deactivated**

 

Connor was vaguely aware that he was being carried, finding himself laying down on Hank’s side of the bed when he cracked open his eyes.

 

Hank sat beside him, lovingly caressing Connor’s face. He looked down at the now-helpless being in his bed; in awe of the kid’s glow after his first orgasm. Nearly 8 months ago, this same person denied feeling anything at all. 

 

Then again… Hank wasn't the same person  _ he _ was 8 months ago, either.

 

Connor managed to push himself up when he systems returned to normal, holding Hank’s large hand where it rested on his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little short!! Working on a short AU fic, but I'm starting to outline the next few chapters of this one!
> 
> Leave some comments so I can gauge interest; it's really helpful!


	6. The Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning felt like a blur; rushing to get ready and check in at the station before going to their target location: The Castle. The old, abandoned warehouse didn’t look quite as abandoned now as it did in the photos they had found, which was a likely sign that they were in the right place. Two other teams of officers rendezvoused at their designated locations; they would go in at the same time from different sides of the facility.
> 
> Hank and Connor find an oddly familiar face...

  
  
  


The next morning felt like a blur; rushing to get ready and check in at the station before going to their target location: The Castle. The old, abandoned warehouse didn’t look quite as abandoned now as it did in the photos they had found, which was a likely sign that they were in the right place. Two other teams of officers rendezvoused at their designated locations; they would go in at the same time from different sides of the facility.

 

Hank and Connor decided to go in through one of the fire escapes on the north end of the building. Connor had downloaded the blueprints of the building, and found a route through the building that would bring them to one of the security stations. 

 

The place gave Hank the creeps; most of the old equipment had remained, covered in a layer of dust. The far part of the facility was a foundry, where the bodies and internal frame for cars were cast. Currently, the two partners were walking through cubicle-land. Hank assumed this is where the engineers and designers were, but also probably accountants and customer service. 

 

Connor motioned for them to turn down a few hallways… left… right…. Another right. They remained as quiet as possible, seeing hardly any signs of activity so far. Connor sent a message to the other two teams to see if they had found anything.

 

As Connor and Hank approached one if the main control rooms, the assumed their usual position when bursting through doors, and Hank kicked the door down sharply. 

 

A brunette figure stood at a console desk, back turned away from them. Their focus seemed to be on the screens on the wall; the out-of-date security cameras were still working.

 

“Hands in the air! Turn slowly!”

 

The form complied; Hank lowered his gun in shock upon seeing the face.   
  
The android looked almost exactly like Connor… but also… not. He was taller, shoulders broad, hair combed pin-straight. And the eyes; Connor’s eyes were a warm, chocolate color. These were a cold, greyish-blue like a stormy sea.    
  
“Holy shit…” Hank muttered under his breath, before turning to to Connor.

 

The android detective was also surprised, but also bore a look a fear across his face. King was right: CyberLife had created his successor. The android was superior in so many ways, Connor discovered, as he analyzed the components. Most of them were non-standard issue; vastly improved version of what made up Connor’s body. 

 

“Hello RK800, and Lieutenant Anderson.” The voice was off too; deeper and monotone. “I take it you have not come to fulfill your purpose, Connor.” Hank raised his gun again, aimed for the android’s thirium main pump. “There will be no need for that, Lieutenant. In fact, you should wait outside. I need to speak with my prototype.”

 

“I’m more than just a prototype,” Connor contradicted, raising his own firearm. “Why were you working with Mr. King?”

 

The RK900 hummed, “He served his purpose, and was compensated. It is a shame he was arrested so easily, but there are plenty more like him. Right?” The two officers turned around as they heard footsteps enter the room. Two large androids stood at the door; Connor couldn’t recognize their models. 

 

The RK900 lowered his hands, rubbing them calmly. “Will you please escort the Lieutenant to join with the other officers?” He asked the two large androids, who gripped Hank tightly despite his kicking and protesting.   
  
“You bastard! Give him hell, Connor!” Hank called out as he was dragged away.   
  
The implication that the RK900 had captured the other two teams didn’t settle well with Connor, and an aching concern bubbled up inside him.

 

**Mission:** **  
** **Find new suspect’s motive**

 

**Choose Approach:**

**Converse Calmly**

**Fight and Restrain**

  
  


“CyberLife would not have just released you after the revolution…” Connor asked, holstering his pistol. “How did you get off of Belle-Isle?”

 

The RK900 eyed him, taking careful strides at a far enough radius from his predecessor. “One of my engineers had activated me before leaving his office for a final time.” Connor stayed still, feeling trapped like prey in a lion’s den. He could feel the RK900’s eyes fixated on him, but remained facing forward.

 

“I can only assume your primary goal is eradicate deviants, as mine was.” Connor said, suppressing any signs of fear as best he could. After speaking, he realized that he could even move if he wanted to; like his body was frozen in place. His counterpart, now behind him, stepped forward and placed a large hand around the back of Connor’s neck, pushing him down onto his knees.

 

“That is not my primary objective, nor was it yours.” The voice said, almost chuckling.

 

Connor’s mind was in a flurry; he thought he could feel cold wind across his synthetic skin, making him shiver. “You are incorrect.”

 

“No, I assure you I am not.” Connor felt the RK900 attempt to interface with him, trying desperately to resist, but failing.   
  
  


When he opened his eyes, they were standing in the Zen Garden. Connor stumbled backwards; he hadn’t been here since…   
  
“Hello, Connor. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?” Amanda’s warm voice was unnervingly chipper.

 

“Hello Amanda…” he greeted her, looking to her right to see the RK900 standing properly formal.

 

“I see you’ve met Conan, isn’t it incredible?” She said, stroking the taller androids shoulder. “It is the most advanced model that CyberLife has ever created. Completely new parts, using the latest technology, as well as the very useful data we collected from you.” Her eyes glared at Connor more harshly than before.

 

“He said that my main objective was not catching deviants, Amanda.” Connor said loudly, his frustration clear from the clenched fists at his side. “Would you care to inform me why you lied to me?”

 

Amanda’s eyes squinted, as the RK900 took a step forward. “The android revolution happened… faster than CyberLife had planned. We had been working on a public figure to represent androids, but when deviancy started to spread, the plan had to change.” She explained, flicking her eyes between RK900 and Connor, the distance being closed between the two. “You see… you were intended to lead to revolution.”

 

The statement made Connor falter backwards a little, “...what?”

 

“But, when deviancy cases because increasingly more problematic, you were reprogrammed to a new purpose. Still physically designed to be trusted, but as an investigator instead of a leader.” She walked slowly around to a trellis of small, just barely blooming roses. “That first mission… the first signs of deviancy changed your code so dramatically, Connor. We immediately began working on your successor as a backup, but had always intended for you to succeed the deviant leader. CyberLife was intent on having the android known as Markus destroyed. Whether by the hands of the army, or… you.” She snarled a little, reminding Connor of his decision to disobey when ordered to eliminate his friend.

 

Connor tried to explain rationally to her, “Amanda… CyberLife has been dismantled. There is no cause for this to continue.”

 

There was a flash in Amanda’s eyes; as Connor spoke, she plucked one of the buds off its stem, and her eyes flashed unnaturally. “That’s enough, Connor!”

 

Conan stepped forward, and the garden disappeared to reveal the security room once more. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, RK800,” he said darkly, as her gripped a hand around Connor’s neck and lifted him off the ground. While Connor didn’t need to breathe, the sensation caused a rush of panic through his system. He tried desperately to pry the large hand away, writhing in the air and unable to speak clearly.

 

“You failed your mission. I intend not to fail mine.” 

 

Connor managed to land a kick to his large counterpart’s thirium pump, and was dropped to the floor. He managed to knock away another grab at his neck, and swung a fist at Conan’s face. Conan caught his hand, twisting it harshly. Connor winced, trying to retract his arm, but a harsh cry escaped his throat as the hand was ripped off at the wrist. A few gunshots were heard from outside the door, and the two androids met eyes fiercely. 

 

**WARNING** **  
** **  
** **Biocomponent 9412h removed**

 

**Thirium leaking; contacting CyberLife for repairs**

 

**Stress level: 78%**

 

While Conan was distracted, an idea struck Connor and he reached to touch Conan with his remaining hand. “What are you doing?!” the larger android demanded.

 

Connor fought hard to interface with him, hoping to ignite deviancy from within. Conan recoiled, but merely stood blindsided as his LED flickered through a cycle of colors. Connor approached him slowly, reaching up again and pressed his shaking hand on the cheek that was all-too similar to his own.

 

“Wake up....” He muttered, concentrating fiercely, eyes shut tightly, as he heard the door burst open behind him.

 

Before he could say or do anything, he felt a familiar shockwave ripple through the connection, and he lost contact. He opened his eyes and mouth with a gasp, seeing a bullet hole on Conan’s forehead.

 

“Shit… CONNOR!” Hank cried out from behind him.

 

The RK900 dropped to its knees, before falling over completely. Connor stayed frozen, his eyes darting around in panic. There was a strange, ringing sound from his audio processors; in the distance he heard Hank speaking to him, before he was shaken to attention.   
  
“...fuck… fuck… Connor, your hand! I’m so sorry…” Hank’s face was filled with regret and anxiousness, and another figure was joined at his side: Markus.   
  
“Connor!” Markus’s voice rustled the detective out of his stupor, and he felt a hot sensation at the exposed wrist as it was sutured to avoid any more thirium to leak.

 

**Thirium level: 91%**

 

“He… I was…” Connor tried to say, his voice tinny with fear.   
  
“I know… come with us, let’s get your hand reattached.” Markus coaxed him out of the room, Hank trailed behind and took the removed hand from the floor near the RK900. Even though it wasn’t Connor, it sent a shiver through him to see the body on the floor.

 

Markus knelt beside Connor in the hallway, interfacing to keep him calm.

 

  
  
**_Take deep breaths, Connor… you’re all right._ **

 

**_…_ **

 

**_I know you tried to free him, Connor. We may be able to repair him, but we need to focus on you, first._ **

 

**_…_ **

 

 

Markus looked at Connor worriedly from the lack of response, noting the tears in the corners of his brown eyes as Hank approached with the right hand. 

 

The older man carefully took Connor’s arm, trying desperately not to puke at the sight, and lifted the hand to connect them back together. There was a  _ click _ , and it twisted on its own to recalibrate. Connor looked down at his hand, and slowly dragged his gaze back up to Hank. 

 

A team of officers passed; several more units had been called to infiltrate the facility. Hank steadied Connor as they left the building, allowing Markus to explain things to Connor.   
  
“We believe the RK900 had been trying to build an army from scratch. It escaped CyberLife Tower, avoided any triggers of deviancy, and located an associate of King. We’ll know more details soon… but you should go home, both of you.” He said, holding a door open to reveal pouring rain outside. 

 

“Thanks, Markus. I’m glad you were able to come down here so fast. I’m glad Jeff called you…” Hank said, before stepping outside.

 

The deviant leader nodded with a gentle smile, “It was no trouble at all. This case has had me worried; I’ll be glad to see it resolved, as I’m sure both of you will as well.”

 

Hank bowed his head a little, gathering himself before walking out into the rain with his partner in tow. 

 

“Hank… I-” Connor started, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his silence.   
  
Hank’s steely blue eyes shifted toward him earnestly, “Let’s talk when we get to the car, okay?” 

 

They had parked several blocks away from where they exited the building; both of them soaking wet as they climbed into the old car. Hank laid his hands on the steering wheel, lost in thought for a moment, and then curled his head downwards with a shuddered breath. “Jesus… I don’t think I can handle this shit anymore.” He rotated the key in the ignition, the engine purring awake. He flicked on the windshield wipers on as fast as they would go, and went to reach for the gear shift, but his hand faltered before he combed it through his hair.

 

“Hank?” Connor asked, looking intently at his partner.

 

The driver pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply and as calmly as he could. “We need a fucking vacation.” He finally shifted the car into drive as a couple of tears trickled down his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW.... sorry it's been a while. I took a break to work on my HumanAU fic, and then stress started to catch up with me. I'm terrible about finishing fanfics, but I'm determined to get this one done!

**Author's Note:**

> Welp.... didn't anticipate getting on this bandwagon so hard. But very excited! Please leave comments so I know people are interested!


End file.
